


The Golden Fleece

by shiiki



Series: Daughter of Wisdom [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Gen, genfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-09-23 19:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 100,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9673382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiiki/pseuds/shiiki
Summary: Annabeth Chase returns to Camp Half-Blood to find the safety of her home shattered: Thalia's tree has been poisoned, destroying the magic barriers protecting the camp, and Chiron is blamed. Only one thing can save the camp, and it's up to Annabeth and her best friend Percy to find it. The problem is, they set off with a monster in tow. Once again, the quest and the surprises it has in store is about to change everything she thinks she knows. An alternate PoV retelling ofPercy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters. *COMPLETE*





	1. My Best Friend Has A Dangerous Classmate

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will follow Annabeth's journey through Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters, starting a little before and ending a little after the timeline of SoM, so there's a bit more expansion of the original canon events than in Daughter of Wisdom. This is a project I took on for NaNoWriMo 2016, and it was my first ever NaNo win (and yes, it actually doubled the 50K target!)
> 
>  ~~The plan at the moment is for 27 chapters, but this might change as I edit and post. I'm aiming for weekly updates so fingers crossed that all goes according to plan!~~ This fic is now complete!
> 
> Anyway, thanks for checking out my fic. Do let me know what you thought—I love hearing from my readers!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth's dreams foretell trouble for Percy and Camp Half-Blood.

My knife was taunting me. 

It glowed faintly on my nightstand, where I'd left it unsheathed. Its blade was made of celestial bronze, so it gave off its own dim light in the dark. Usually, this was a comfort. Although I wasn't afraid of the dark any more (well, mostly) as I had been when I lived here as a child, it was still nice to have a nightlight. Besides, it did a good job of keeping spiders away. Monsters are wary of celestial bronze. 

I know technically, not all spiders are monsters (when I say 'monsters', I mean it in the mythological sense: ancient Greek creatures who hunt demigods like me) but when you're a daughter of Athena, they may as well be. My mother made the first spider from an arrogant girl who had the gall to challenge her at a weaving contest, and the little beast have been out for her blood—and to terrorise all her descendants—since then. When I was seven, the last time I'd lived properly at home, they'd come to my room in the dark of night and torment me. Back then, I didn't have any weapon against them. Driven to desperation by how indifferent my father and stepmother seemed to my plight, I'd run away. 

That was when I'd met my friends Luke and Thalia, who had promised me they would be my new family. It had worked out, for a time. We'd move around to different safe houses they'd built around the east coast and I'd learned to fight off monsters like them. We'd travelled north, looking for a camp in New York that trained kids like us—half human, half god. Camp Half-Blood had sent us a satyr protector, Grover, to guide us there. But then, after a few wrong turns (including one nearly down the gullet of a Cyclops), the monsters had caught up to us on the doorstep of the camp. Long story short: Thalia faced down the monsters to give us a chance to run. The monsters almost killed her. Thalia's father Zeus turned her into a pine tree in tribute to her courage. She still stands on Half-Blood Hill now, her tree spirit creating a magical barrier that monsters can no longer cross.

For the last five years, I'd lived at Camp Half-Blood. It was only last summer that I'd finally agreed to spend the school year with my father and my stepfamily. The last time I'd tried it, when I was ten, I'd been so miserable that I'd returned to camp before I even got to winter break, vowing never to return. Last year, though, my friend Percy had convinced me to give it another try. He'd been right (although I'd never admit it to him). This year hadn't been too bad. I'd gone to school like a normal kid, and my dad had taken some time out of his busy schedule as a professor at West Point to spend with me. He'd taken all of us to Washington over spring break and we'd gone to see the Lincoln Memorial, just the two of us, while my stepmother and stepbrothers relaxed at the hotel. 

While monsters still attacked from time to time, I wasn't helpless against them any more. I'd learned loads at camp about fighting them, plus I had some practical experience from a quest I'd undertaken with Percy and Grover last summer. I'd gotten pretty good at using my knife. 

All this should have made its soft glow all the more reassuring, but the knife still gave me mixed feelings. It was a dagger with a long, slightly curved blade of celestial bronze—deadly to monsters. I'd carried it with me for five years and it was definitely my most trusty weapon: the first one I'd ever had, given to me by Luke the night we met. And that was the problem.

It was a gift from a traitor. 

It hadn't started out that way, of course. I used to think Luke was perfect. He was a lot older than me, but he'd taken me under his wing from the start, promising we'd be family. He was an amazing sword-fighter, but he'd shown me how, given my smaller size, I could wield a knife more effectively. He'd been incredible to watch in battle; I still remembered how he'd taken out a dragon that had burned down one of our safe houses. After we'd lost Thalia at Camp Half-Blood, he'd been all I had left. We'd been placed in different cabins at camp, according to our godly parentage—he as a son of Hermes had been in cabin eleven, while I was in cabin six with the other children of Athena—but we'd still hung out together. 

Then three years later, Luke had gotten a quest, which he'd failed to complete, and he'd become increasingly bitter with the gods until last summer, he'd masterminded a plot to overthrow Olympus and raise the evil Titan Lord Kronos from the depths of the prison Tartarus. Percy, Grover, and I had nearly been killed (or captured; I'm not sure which would have been the result if we'd been delivered to Tartarus as Luke's plan had intended) in the process. We'd escaped, barely, but Luke had left camp after making another failed attempt on Percy's life. He was out in the world now, too, only he probably wasn't trying to have a normal school year like us. He was serving Kronos, working to help him reform and rise out of Tartarus.

I knew all this, but it was still hard for me to square in my head. Luke had been my hero. The part of me that still clung to my memories of our time together couldn't stop thinking of him as the person I trusted most in the world. I hated feeling like I'd been mistaken.

My bronze dagger was now, sadly, a reminder of how Luke had betrayed us. Its soft light was a comfort but at the same time, a reproach. I couldn't really get rid of it—not only was it my only celestial bronze weapon, I'd also had it so long, I could wield it like an extension of my arm, which is really important in a fight. On sleepless nights like this, though, it was more of a consternation. 

I looked away from its chiding glow. My room was still an quiet. It hadn't changed much in the five years I'd been away. My old stuffed animals still decorated the shelves and the pastel pink wallpaper featured winged ponies and rainbows. At least the cobwebs were gone. Someone—most likely my stepmother, although I found it hard to believe—had swept and cleaned meticulously before I came home this time. I'd also acquired a desk with a couple of shelves for my books. The children's books that I'd used to own I'd passed along to my stepbrothers. I didn't care much for fiction. Reading was hard enough for me as a dyslexic with ADHD, so I only liked to do it for specific purposes. My books were mainly on Greek mythology (important for my survival) and architecture (my favourite subject), though I didn't mind reading other things too as long as they had good practical knowledge. Getting the chance to go to school had been good this year. I wasn't too keen on the summer reading homework my English teacher had announced, though—all of it was fiction and he refused to allow me to pick something historical or factual instead.

Next to the new desk, my school uniform—a checkered vest pinafore that ended in a navy skirt, and a white blouse to be worn underneath—hung off the handle of my closet, ready for my last week of school. At the foot of the closet was a half-filled duffel bag that I'd started to pack. When school let out next week, I would be returning to camp for the summer session. 

I couldn't wait. Much as I'd enjoyed school and getting to know my father over the year, Camp Half-Blood still felt more like home to me. I missed the cabin with the neat rows of bunk beds and orderly desks with endless drawers and shelves for us to keep whatever we needed for our various projects: charts, maps, blueprints, the works. I missed the golden pavilion where we had our meals served by nymphs, and the bronze brazier where we made our offerings to our godly parents before every meal. I'd managed to scrape portions of my food into the kitchen stove when I ate at home (unfortunately there wasn't really a good way at school) and while this got me odd looks from my stepmother, she refrained from commenting, though she sounded a little put out when she scolded my stepbrothers for trying to copy me. 

I missed our daily training sessions—sword-fighting, Pegasi-riding, crafts and metalwork; even the lava-spewing climbing wall, which was one of my least favourite activities. I missed the regular capture the flag games where I could pit my battle strategies against the opposing team and put my fighting training to use. (My team usually won—Athena is the goddess of strategic warfare, after all.)

I missed Chiron, our activities director, who oversaw the day-to-day running of the camp and the training of all heroes. He'd mentored me for years, ever since I'd first arrived at Camp Half-Blood. Sometimes I felt (a little guiltily) like he was more of my father than my actual dad.

Most of all, I missed my friend Percy. It was hard to believe I'd only met him last summer. We'd grown close over the course of the quest we'd been on, to retrieve Zeus's lightning bolt (long story). It was that same quest that Luke had sabotaged. 

I guess I'd probably call Percy my best friend now, seeing as of my other best friends, Luke had betrayed us and Thalia was a tree. 

Percy was home for the school year, too, though he lived in Manhattan with his mom. (His dad is Poseidon, making his parentage really rare since the three oldest brothers of the gods—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—technically made a pact not to have any more demigod children because of a prophecy that one of said children would have the power to destroy Olympus. Obviously, two of the brothers hadn't kept their word.) In a week's time, at the end of the school semester, Percy would be returning to camp as well. 

Next to my knife on my nightstand, illuminated by its light, was a slightly lopsided silver model of the Parthenon. Percy had made it for me for my birthday last year. Below it was a letter he'd written me a month ago. We'd tried to keep in touch over the year, but it wasn't easy. Writing letters didn't come easily to a pair of dyslexic demigods. This particular letter was full of crossed-out misspellings (and plenty more that weren't crossed-out) and I knew he must have taken a while to cover the page in his wide scrawl. At the top right-hand corner was the only bit that wasn't riddled with errors: his address.

I could sympathise. I was better at writing than Percy, but it took me a fair bit of time, too. So I definitely appreciated every letter I got, infrequent as they were, because I knew the effort it took.

You're probably wondering, given how writing letters are so difficult, why we didn't just call each other or send emails. Well, that wasn't really an option because half-bloods and electronics don't mix. Using phones is like putting up a GPS tracking signal to all monsters in the vicinity. It draws them straight to us. I'd learned the hard way that it was the same with the Internet. After spring break, I'd borrowed my dad's computer to send Percy a picture I'd taken at the Lincoln Memorial; his email reply had attracted a scarab beetle the size of a Jack Russell that had proceeded to trash not just the computer but also my dad's office. Needless to say, that had strained our relationship a bit. I'd decided not to mention the incident to Percy—no sense making him feel guilty for something that wasn't his fault—but I hadn't been able to email him back.

In Percy's last letter, he'd talked about his new school and how he generally like it, except for the bullies. I wasn't surprised by that. Percy was the type of kid who just had to stand up for people. He kind of reminded me of Thalia, with his restless, crackling energy and forthright demeanour: direct to the point of irreverence. He didn't take much crap from anyone, human or monster, much less a bully looking to beat up on him or anyone around him. Percy's letter didn't mention fighting any monsters, though I assumed he must have come across some over the course of the year. The more powerful the demigod, the stronger our scent is to monsters, and with his father being one of the Big Three, Percy definitely had way more power than me (if not brains).

Anyway, before we'd left camp last year, I'd made Percy promise he'd contact me if an adventure found him. I guessed that, contrary to expectation, we'd both managed to have a relatively peaceful year after all. And I'd see him again in a week. 

The thought made me smile. I reached over and sheathed my knife, plunging the room into uncomfortable darkness, and tried to get some sleep. 

After tossing around for a bit, I must have finally drifted off because I found myself dreaming about Percy. I guess it wasn't surprising, since I'd been thinking about his letter and our plans for the summer as I dropped off. I saw Percy sitting on a beanbag in a room full of whiteboards and motivational posters, the sort that had pictures of people doing stuff like scaling mountains, with encouraging words printed in large block letters beneath them. I assumed he was in a classroom, although there were no desks. 

Percy was in a circular group of about twenty students, each with their own beanbag chairs and worksheets on the floor in front of them. Their teacher stood at the whiteboard, a market in hand, but he seemed strangely lost as he stared blankly at it. Someone in the circle threw a spitball at him, which hit the back of his head. 

Percy turned to the offending student. 'Stop that!'

I was feeling confused as to why he needed to stand up for his teacher when the _actual_ teacher got up and sent the guy at the whiteboard back to the beanbag circle. I'd mistaken the kid for a teacher because he was insanely tall for a thirteen-year-old—a little over six feet, he towered over the teacher. He had a young-looking face, though, with round cheeks that hadn't lost their baby fat and a buck-toothed mouth with uneven teeth. His lip trembled like he was about to cry. His eyes were an innocent calf-brown—wait. His _eye_.

He had only one eye.

I gasped and stumbled back as the Cyclops student looked straight through me. His big brown eye blinked, then seemed to shimmer. For a second, I saw two superimposed images: the real face of the Cyclops and the disguised, two-eyed version created by the magical mist that helps to obscure mythological creatures from mortals. And then that warped, too, until the face in front of me was no longer the Cyclops student, but a homeless man I had once seen years ago. At least, he'd first appeared as a homeless man. He had a scruffy beard peppered with white, which covered most of his face, and his scraggly bangs fell into his eyes.

I realised the entire dream had shifted. I was standing in the rain with a young Thalia, Luke, and Grover, outside an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Flatbush in Brooklyn. Thalia gave the homeless man a fierce glare and he shuffled past us, jiggling a coffee cup full of coins. 

'Let's get off the street,' she muttered. 'I don't feel safe hanging around out in the open.'

Luke stuck a golf club in the crack of the warehouse door and wrenched it open. The inside smelt oddly clean for an abandoned warehouse, like the lemon-scented furniture polish my stepmother used. 

'It's as good a place as any,' Luke said. 'We can camp out here for the night and find the camp tomorrow.'

'I'm sorry!' Grover said. 'We'd be there already if I hadn't taken all those wrong turns.'

'It's okay,' Thalia said. 'At least we lost the monsters. Come on.' She squeezed in through the gap in the door. Grover, Luke, and I followed.

A moment later, the door slammed shut behind us, shutting out the sliver of light from the outside. I heard a loud, satisfied intake of breath and then Grover let out a terrified bleat. 

'Blaaaa—' he was cut off abruptly.

'Grover?' Thalia said.

'It's fine! This way.' His voice sounded like it was coming from down the hall … only that couldn't be right. The warehouse had looked like a single, open room from the outside. 

I froze, recognising the dream memory. Part of me was seven years old again, feeling my way blindly with my friends about the 'warehouse', which had turned out to be a haunted-house-worthy mansion, disguised by the Mist. The echo of our voices bounded off the walls, accompanied by the clink of coins in a coffee cup, the only clue that there was someone—or something—else in here with us.

I held Thalia's hand tightly at first, but then we heard Luke yell out for her help and she let go of me to run after him. And then it was my own voice I heard, screaming for Luke to help me. After that, terrifying silence. 

I remembered running around, close to tears, in the dark maze of the mansion for hours—up stairs, down hallways, into dead-end rooms littered terrifyingly with bones. My fear smelt of the linoleum on the floors and the lemony polish on the banisters. For years I'd associate the scent of lemons with terror. But my dream threw me forward to the point where I eventually found a flickering light coming from a room. Like many of the others, bones were scattered around it, and a hulking figure was stoking a fire in the centre. I could make out the trussed-up forms of my friends hanging upside down from the ceiling. Although they were struggling violently against their bonds, none of them could make a sound through their gags.

'Now,' said their captor contemplatively, 'shall I start with you, satyr, or finish with dessert?'

Luke twisted so hard I thought he was definitely going to break free, but he only ended up swinging wildly. The giant man laughed. 'There's no use wriggling, demigod. You're going to be my dinner once I decide how I'll cook you.'

He turned then and I saw his bearded face, the scraggly bangs parted to reveal a single, malicious eye. It was the same homeless man we'd seen outside the warehouse-mansion—a Cyclops, who'd tricked us into his lair. A smile widened across his face.

'Now, Annabeth,' he said, only it was my dad's voice. 'Don't you worry. I love you. You can stay here with me. You can stay forever.'

I'd forgotten until now exactly what he'd said to me—the honeyed words that had been everything I'd wanted from my dad at that age. I'd nearly stepped forward, drawn to the promise he offered me. But then my fingers had brushed the cobwebs in the corner of the doorway, bringing me to my senses. I charged instead, tripping as I sidestepped the Cyclops's outstretched hand and landing on my knees by his feet. 

I stabbed my knife into his foot.

The Cyclops howled in pain. Unfortunately, the stab wasn't enough to make him disintegrate. Blood gushed from the wound as I yanked my knife out.

'Foolish demigod!' the Cyclops screamed. 'You cannot defeat a Cyclops with a mere jab. We are the strongest of monsters. Even the lowliest of us, the mistakes of nature, grow up wild on the streets and learn to be tough. And I am no mistake. I am the son of the great Polyphemus himself!'

I didn't waste a second. I ran for the nearest hanging figure and sliced my knife through the bonds on Thalia's hands. She reacted instantly. With one hand, she used my knife to free the rest of her bonds in a single swipe; with the other, she swung herself, kicking at the Cyclops's hand when he tried to grab us. She tossed my knife back to me and activated her shield, Aegis. The Cyclops staggered back from the full-size image of Medusa on its front.

'Well, I'm the daughter of Zeus,' she snarled. 'Polyphemus can kiss my ass.'

A bright flash illuminated the entire room, though that didn't make sense, since we were in the Cyclops's mansion and I knew Thalia couldn't have called on lightning indoors. I felt wind whipping around me as the dream shifted again. I was on top of a hill now and growing upwards, so tall that I thought I would tower into the clouds. My feet dug into the ground and my outstretched arms were literally branching out. 

I was Thalia, and I was turning into a pine, just as she had. 

A dark shadow crept up to me and knelt amongst the tree roots—my roots. I guessed it was a person, though he or she was wearing a cloak and hood so I couldn't see who it was. The figure pulled a vial of something acid-green and fed it into the soil. The sight of that radioactive substance made me feel like vomiting. The hooded person came closer, right up to my trunk, and placed a hand on the bark. 

'Trust me,' he said in a low voice. And then he stabbed my trunk violently with a large syringe. 

All around me, the soil glowed. Then the poisonous colour faded as it was absorbed into the earth. The hooded figure pulled his syringe out and slunk off down the hill.

There was a soft hiss and the pine needles on my bottom branches turned a sickly pale yellow, then started to curl. 

'Annabeth …' I heard. It was Thalia's voice calling to me as though from far away. ' _Dying_ …' she said, in a voice filled with pain.

I woke with a start. Sunlight was streaming into my room through the gaps in my bedroom curtains. I felt dark inside, though. My dreams had left me with a deep sense of dread. The memory of the Cyclops … _Percy_ and a Cyclops … and the ominous part about Thalia's tree. 

I felt absolutely certain that I had to get to camp as quickly as possible.

And it was just as well Percy lived on my way there, because if he was really dealing with a Cyclops, he was probably going to need some help.


	2. My Sneaker Becomes A Chew Toy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth runs into her first monster on her journey north and learns more about the dangers camp is facing.

I packed quickly. I didn't know what my dad was going to say when I informed him that I needed to cut out of school and head back to camp a week early, but either way, I knew I had to be prepared to leave. I was glad I'd already started packing stuff in my duffel bag for camp. I decided, though, that I could just ask my dad to send it on after me. It was better to travel light if I wanted to move quickly.

I got my backpack out and tossed in the essentials: a change of clothes, a tiny flask of nectar and a block of ambrosia the size of a chocolate bar (the food of the gods worked well as emergency first-aid), money, a handful of golden drachmas—the currency of the mythological world—and my Yankees baseball cap. The latter was a gift from my mom, and it turned the wearer invisible. I put my school uniform back in my closet and pulled out jeans and my orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt instead. My bronze dagger went up my sleeve, strapped to my left arm. When I was done, I slung my backpack over one shoulder and scanned the room, looking for anything else I had forgotten.

My eyes fell on the paperweight Parthenon and Percy's letter pinned underneath it. Next to it was a bottle of sunscreen—Medea's SPF 50,000—that I'd bought at a mythical curios shop I'd stumbled across when we were in Washington over spring break. It was a magical item and those could occasionally come in handy, but I thought the chances that I'd encounter a volcano or a god's forget between RIchmond and Long Island were pretty minute. I put both sunscreen and paperweight into my duffel to be sent on later with the rest of my non-urgent belongings, but took Percy's letter, with his scrawled address at the top, with me now.

The smell of frying sausages and fresh coffee hit my nose when I walked into the kitchen. My stepmother, Janet, was attempting to cook breakfast while also corralling my twin brothers, Bobby and Matthew, into sitting still to eat. They were six years old now and they took after Janet in looks: dark hair and slanted Asian eyes. Bobby had a toy aeroplane in his hand and he kept trying to get back up to fly it about the room in his hands. He finally settled for swinging it back and forth above his head while Matthew tried to snatch it out of the air.

Janet set a plate of sausage and eggs in front of them. 'Frederick,' she said to my dad, who was poring over a complicated diagram of a naval warship. It already had coffee stains on the corners. 'Some help?'

'Put your plane down, Matthew,' he said absently.

' _Bobby_ has the plane!' Matthew said. But he stopped trying to grab for it and picked up his fork. Bobby crash-landed his plane into his eggs. 

Janet sighed. She looked at me and started to say, 'Good morning, Annabeth,' but then she stopped and pursed her lips. 'Why aren't you dressed for school?'

'I have to get to camp,' I said, deciding to cut straight to the chase.

My dad looked up from his ship plan. 'Camp is a week from now, Annabeth.'

'I know, but it's important. I had a dream last night—something's happening and I need to be there.'

'Did you contact Chiron?'

'Er, no,' I admitted, though it seemed like an obvious suggestion now. But I figured I could do it along the way. I couldn't shake my conviction that Chiron would only confirm that camp needed me. 'I can't really explain it, but we get messages in dreams. I can't ignore them. _Please_ , Dad, I know this wasn't the plan, but it's only a week early, and you won't need to drive me all the way now, I'll just catch a bus. I'll get my own ticket out of my pocket money.'

'I don't know,' he said slowly, 'it could be dangerous, all on your own.' 

But then, to my surprise, Janet cut in. 'Annabeth seems to know what she's doing,' she said gently. 'Perhaps we should let her go.'

They exchanged a look. 

'You're not … well, I guess if you're asking, you're not exactly running away this time,' Dad said. 'But you'll be back?'

'At the end of summer,' I promised. 'I'm not running away. I—I'm glad I came home this year.'

My dad smiled. 'I'm glad you came, too.'

'Frederick,' Janet said, 'you should probably drive Annabeth to the bus station. It's a long way to walk.'

I was surprised at how accommodating she was being. Janet was the last person I'd expect to understand about my world. I figured she might just be happy to be rid of me.

'In that case, we'd better get going.' My dad drained his coffee and got up.

'Have some breakfast before you go,' Janet said, setting a plateful of toast, eggs, and sausage in front of me.

'Er, thanks.' I took my plate and scraped half of it into the kitchen stove fire. In my head, I said a quick prayer of thanks to Athena. _Help me get to camp quickly, please!_ I added. 

Janet's face got that pinched, annoyed look she always had when I made my offerings to the gods. I guessed she'd be glad not to have to watch me do it any more.

I ate the rest of my breakfast quickly while my dad went to get dressed and Janet put together a sandwich I could take with me for my lunch.

'Safe travels,' she told me stiffly when she handed it to me.

I thanked her again. Bobby and Matthew waved at me as if I was just going off to school. I guess they didn't really understand that I wasn't going to be back until the end of summer.

My dad drove me to the Greyhound Station, though it was out of the way from his usual commute to work. Although I told him I had enough pocket money to buy a ticket to New York, he counted out the bus fare anyway, plus extra cash for emergencies, and pressed it into my hands before I got out of the car.

'You'll write to us?'

I nodded. 'Thanks, Dad. I—um, well, I'll see you in August.'

He gave me an awkward, one-armed hug, then the car behind him honked impatiently. I got out and waved to him as he drove off.

I managed to get a direct bus to Manhattan that would get me there by the evening. I figured I could find my way to where Percy lived from there. Hopefully he hadn't been eaten by the Cyclops in his school. I double-checked the address on his letter. He lived in an apartment on the Upper East Side—104th and 1st. I thought that was fairly close to the Manhattan Greyhound station. We'd been there once last year when we'd set out on our quest. As my bus pulled out of the bay, I folded Percy's letter and put it back in my bag. With any luck, I'd see him by dinnertime.

Of course, I had no luck.

Last summer, Percy, Grover, and I had taken the bus out of New York at the start of our quest. We'd been attacked almost immediately out of the station, so I was feeling quite positive when an hour into my journey, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. I'd still taken some precautions—experience had taught me _not_ to sit at the back of the bus unless there was an exit there, so I'd picked the first row, right up near the driver. I was coming back up to my seat from the restroom as the bus pulled into Fredericksburg, which was a touristy sort of city that had had some military significance in the Civil War. A whole bunch of people got on, which made it hard to navigate the aisle. I accidentally bumped into a short man in a thick navy hoodie who was stowing his bag overhead. He fumbled the bag and it thudded heavily on the floor. 

'Sorry,' I said quickly. He grunted in reply and made a weird snuffling noise like he had a cold. He'd pulled his hood up over his head, which seemed a bit odd on a humid June day. Maybe he was sick. 

I bent to help him with his bag, then froze. It occurred to me that what I was hearing was actual sniffing—and not the needing-a-handkerchief-to-blow-your-nose kind. It sounded like the sharp sniff of a hunting dog.

I straightened slowly, feeling like I shouldn't make any sudden movements, and looked into the hood. A pair of beady canine eyes stared back at me. Below them, a rough, sandpapery nose with flared nostrils protruded out over an elongated jaw with a lolling tongue and sharp, gleaming teeth. I realised the hood wasn't really a hood either, but two floppy ears draped over each side of the dog's face. 

I glanced down, expecting to see the monster's body unobscured by the Mist now, too, but it remained humanoid. _Not a dog_ , I thought. _A Cynocephalus_. I knew I'd come across some reference to the dog-headed people before, but I couldn't remember who had fought them or how. Not that it mattered. The Cynocephalus snarled and snapped his powerful jaws together. Cursing, I beat a hasty retreat, slowing only to grab my backpack from my seat as I dashed off the bus. 

The Cynocephalus chased after me. I hoped maybe I could outrun him, since he wasn't actually a dog and had the limitations of two legs like me, but unfortunately he kept up well enough. I would think for a while that I'd lost him, and then I'd hear a loud sniff and growl and his panting breath coming up behind me again. Along the way I managed to pull my Yankees cap out of my pocket and slap it on, but the Cynocephalus had a dog's sense of smell. He seemed capable of locating me just fine, invisible or not. 

I kept running. The air was hot and muggy and sweat poured down my face. I was tiring. I needed a better plan. 

The dog-headed man chased me all the way to the banks of a river. As I approached it, I realised he'd altered course slightly, setting himself up so that he was blocking off the north path. It was as though he wanted me to turn southwards—back in the direction I'd come from. Away from camp. 

I stopped and drew my knife. If the Cynocephalus had been sent to prevent me from reaching camp, I'd have to fight my way past him. Unfortunately, my mind was still blank on the best way to fight a Cynocephalus. He advanced on me with hungry eyes and gleaming incisors and I realised this wasn't a great fight for a knife. The monster's teeth could rip into me easily if I got in that close.

The Cynocephalus lunged and I dodged sideways behind a poplar tree. He landed with his hands among the tree roots, but that didn't seem to faze him. He was perfectly capable of crawling forward on all fours, fast. I swung myself up onto a low-hanging tree branch, hoping he wasn't too good at climbing. He made a leap for me and his teeth caught my shoe. For a moment I hung there, nearly pulled off balance, but then my shoe came off and immediately became a chew toy. The Cynecephalus glared malevolently upwards. He didn't climb after me, but he didn't leave, either. He settled cross-legged at the base of the trunk, gnawing on the sole of my shredded shoe. 

Great. I leaned against the tree trunk, cursing my luck. I was stuck up here until the Cynocephalus gave up—not likely—or I could figure out how to get past him. Since his sense of smell meant sneaking by invisibly wasn't an option, that left defeating it. 

'Oh, no, not a _dog_!'

I nearly fell out of the tree in surprise. A slender girl with pale white skin melted out of the trunk onto the branch next to me. She had dark hair with white highlights that fanned out around her pretty face. A dryad—a tree nymph like the many we had at camp. She looked down at the Cynocephalus and then gave me a sympathetic look.

'You're treed, aren't you?' she said.

I nodded. 'Can you help?'

'If it gets the dog away from my tree,' she said. 'I hate dogs.'

'I need to get in close to stab it,' I said, thinking quickly. 'Maybe if you distract it …'

The dryad nodded and dropped lightly to the ground, in front of the Cynocephalus. He scrambled to his feet and sniffed cautiously at her. The dryad's face contorted in disgust, but she let him approach. I positioned myself carefully, knowing I'd only have one chance at this. Then I leapt from the branch, straight onto the Cynocephalus's back. I drove my bronze blade between his shoulders.

He let out an agonised howl and disintegrated into fine ash. I fell to the ground in a puddle of dog drool. The tattered remains of my sneaker lay at my feet. I held it up between two fingers. The top was splayed, the cloth torn up, and the sole had been gnawed into nothing but soft, slimy, misshapen rubber. 

The dryad looked nauseated. 'That is disgusting.'

'And useless now,' I sighed, tossing it aside. 'Thanks. I'm Annabeth, by the way.'

'Leuke,' said the dryad.

I stared at her, recognising the name. 'Weren't you the one Hades—'

'Abducted, yes,' Leuke said with a scowl. 'And then he turned me into a poplar tree when his wife got mad. A _tree_! I was a naiad, you know. How torturous do you think it was, having to stand still for all eternity?'

'Um,' I said, thinking of Thalia, 'that must have sucked. But you're obviously not a tree any more …'

'Oh, that's Odysseus's doing,' Leuke said airily. 'Now _he_ was a hero.'

'Wait,' I said, feeling somewhat confused. I knew who Odysseus was, of course—his travels were legendary. He was famous for using his wits to outsmart his enemies, like how he'd camouflaged his ship to hide it in plain sight of cannibal giants in the northern lands, or tricked the Cyclops Polyphemus with clever misdirection. Every child of Athena knew Odysseus; she favoured him because he was smart. 

I didn't recall any myths where he rescued a naiad-turned-tree, though. 

'I've never heard that story,' I said.

'Typical,' sniffed Leuke. 'All the best men go unremembered. He was so modest, too—he said he was nobody, but _I_ knew he was more than that.'

'No, I mean … I know who Odysseus _is_. He _was_ "Nobody". That's the name he used when he defeated the Cyclops.'

Leuke shrugged. 'Anyway, he had this golden ram-skin and he hung it on my branches and it brought me right back.'

'A golden ram-skin … you don't mean the Golden Fleece, do you? The one Jason led the Argonauts to retrieve?'

'No, I said _Odysseus_ , not Jason,' Leuke said. 'Pay attention. I changed back into a nymph, but after being a tree so many years, I ended up as a dryad. I never did get to go back to the ocean.'

Leuke's story didn't exactly tally with the myths I knew—Jason had definitely been the hero who retrieved the Golden Fleece (if that was indeed what she was referring to). But then I thought Odysseus might have been on that quest, too (the crew of the Argo was practically a who's who of ancient demigods, after all). And anyway, no one knew what had become of the Golden Fleece after Jason had brought it back. For all I knew it _had_ made it to the Underworld with Odysseus after it disappeared from the records of history. 

None of that really mattered to me now, though. I'd gotten rid of the Cynocephalus, but I was also off the bus. Although maybe it was better that way. So far, my track record with buses was looking pretty bad. I didn't feel like getting on any more enclosed vehicles. 

I should keep moving, though. I didn't know how many more monsters might be out to stop me getting to camp. It wasn't wise to stop too long out in the open. 

'Leuke,' I said, interrupting her chatter about the comparative merits of tree- and sea-swelling, 'I need to get to Camp Half-Blood. Do you know a way I could go?'

She blinked at me. 'I don't know where that is.'

'Oh. Um, Long Island, New York. It's north of here.'

'Oh, that's easy. The river runs north to south. That way's north.' She pointed. 

I already knew that much. Clearly Leuke wasn't going to be much help in terms of directions. I thanked her again and started off on foot.

After a few hours hiking along the river (not much fun with only one shoe, I can tell you), the terrain started to look vaguely familiar. I realised I'd been here before, long ago. In the years before I'd met them, Thalia and Luke had created a number of safe houses in various states. They'd brought me to a few when I'd joined them. I was somewhere along the Potomac River now and if memory served me right, there was a hideout nearby. The sun was low in the sky by now and I was exhausted. It seemed as good a time as any to stop for the night and work out a plan for tomorrow. 

The hideout was fortunately still where we'd left it, a large hollow tree deep in the Crow's Nest Natural Area Preserve. I tucked myself in and draped a bunch of vines over the entrance to camouflage it. Then I curled up with my head on my backpack and fell asleep right away.

OoOoO

I dreamt of camp. At first, everything seemed normal, and I wondered if I'd been mistaken about last night's dream. The year-round campers were having a campfire in the amphitheatre, toasting marshmallows and singing in rounds. Then out of nowhere, flames spewed over the campers' heads. Chiron, who being a centaur was taller than everyone else, narrowly avoided having his head cooked. 

An enormous shadow blotted out the moon. It had gigantic wings and a long, snake-like neck that ended in a scaly head. Arms and legs ending in sharp talons protruded from its sleek, leathery belly. Its tail arched out behind it, splitting into two wicked-looking points.

The dragon roared and flamed again. The campers screamed. 

'To the armoury!' someone shouted. It was Clarisse La Rue, the big muscular daughter of the war god Ares.

Chiron sprinted ahead of everyone to the armoury, where he snatched up his bow and arrow. The dragon dove among the campers, making a grab for a small girl—my half-sister Holly Swindon. She screamed in terror as the talon descended.

Darinia Castle, the head counsellor for Demeter cabin, threw herself in front of Holly. Weeds sprouted from the ground and tried to wrap around the dragon's claw, but it sliced right through them and into Darinia's chest. Blood blossomed where the dragon pierced her and Darinia fell among her loose weeds, like a puppet with its strings cut.

'No!' screamed Katie Gardner, Darinia's second-in-command.

'You want a piece of this?' Clarisse yelled, and charged the dragon with a javelin. It bounced off the thick hide of its legs. Undeterred, Clarisse dodged a column of flame and made another stab, this time at the dragon's wing. She was successful at piercing it, though the hole seemed tiny compared to the breadth of the creature. 

'Archers, to me!' Chiron shouted. Every member of Apollo cabin flocked to his side, bows at the ready. On Chiron's signal, they let loose a volley of arrows. Most went wide, shooting past the dragon's neck, but I soon saw why they had aimed up there. One of the arrows hit the dragon's eye, causing it to thrash in pain. Campers dove out of its way as its tail whipped around in its writhing agony.

Six sword-fighters, led by Charles Beckendorf of the Hephaestus cabin, attacked the dragon's underbelly. Only Beckendorf's thrust managed to pierce its hide. It flamed again, this time catching a few campers' hair on fire. They ran screaming for the canoe lake. 

Chiron and the Apollo archers took aim again, but before they could fire, a Pegasus came flying up to the dragon, ridden by a girl with loose blond hair. Silena Beauregard hadn't run to the armoury with the rest, but to the stables, where she'd saddled up her Pegasus. In a daring move I wouldn't have expected from a daughter of Aphrodite, she swung a purse around her head like a lasso and flung it straight at the dragon's mouth. It disappeared into the monstrous jaws just as the dragon opened them to belch another jet of fire. 

There was an explosion from inside the dragon's mouth. It blew apart into pieces of leathery skin. One hit Silena's Pegasus, knocking it down towards the ground in a rough landing. Silena tumbled off the Pegasus's back at Beckendorf's feet. He crouched over her, looking stunned.

'What did you throw at it? Greek fire?'

Silena shook her head weakly. 'My purse—I had hair spray in there.'

Beckendorf looked impressed. Clarisse tromped over, covered in dragon guts. 

'I want to know who summoned that thing in,' she said angrily.

Chiron frowned. He was peering into the distance in the direction of Thalia's tree. 'I don't think it was summoned, child.' 

As if in answer, a handful of dead, slightly smoking pine needles blew across on the wind. Chrion caught one and examined it. 'It seems our barriers have been breached.'

The scene faded away. I turned over and opened my eyes. The woods around me were still and dark.

It was definitely clear now that I had been right about needing to get to camp. Something had happened to Thalia's tree and monsters were getting in.

I didn't really need to call Chiron to confirm it, but when the sun rose, casting little rainbows on the sprays of water I kicked up in the river, I threw in a golden drachma and called on the goddess Iris to accept the offering. I asked to see Chiron at Camp Half-Blood, hoping I wasn't interrupting anything important.

Chiron looked surprised to see me. He was in his office, sitting before his prism. I guessed he was sending a number of messages of his own before I called. My mind wondered briefly how it would work if two parties were attempting to Iris-message each other at the exact same time. 

I forced myself back on topic. 'Chiron, I saw what happened last night—'

'Annabeth, thank the gods. I was trying to reach you at home. Your father said you'd left.'

'Yes,' I told him. 'I dreamed about Thalia's tree, and then the dragon attack last night …'

'Indeed,' Chiron said gravely. 'The situation is bad. You must return home, Annabeth—'

'What?' I was sure I couldn't have heard him properly. 'You need me! I'm already on my way!'

'No, Annabeth, the camp is not safe now. You'll need to …' His image wavered. In my disbelief, I'd stopped kicking up the spray of water and my rainbow was flickering. '… and tell Percy,' I heard as I quickly started back up again, but it was too late. The rainbow winked away and Chiron's face disappeared. 

For a while, I stared at the spot where I'd set up the message, wondering what I'd missed. _Tell Percy_. Well, I had intended to find him anyway. I wondered if he'd had similar dreams.

I felt sick thinking about the way Darinia had been cut down, the screams of the campers as they'd run off with their heads on fire. They were going to need all the help they could get. 

I set off immediately, heading back towards civilisation. There wasn't any time to waste. I had to find the quickest way to New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leuke is referenced in _Percy Jackson's Greek Gods_ (and is an [actual mythological figure](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leuce_\(mythology\))), but I made up all the supporting details in her story.


	3. I Catch A Sheep Truck To Wilmington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth makes it another 120 miles north, with the help of a chatty delivery demigod.

It took me all morning, but I managed to hike my way up to the Stafford Civil War Park, where I found a tourist bus marked for Washington, D.C. Although I wasn't keen to board a bus again, it was my best bet to get anywhere with faster transportation. I snuck on invisibly and fortunately there was an empty seat that I could take without anyone realising they had a stowaway. The bus pulled up to the Lincoln Memorial an hour later and the tourists trooped off, cameras in hand. 

I was starving by this point. The last time I'd eaten had been Janet's sandwich, yesterday afternoon, so I made my way to the café and gift shop. I bought myself a burger and strawberry shake and stepped back out to eat it. As I slurped my shake, I noticed that the mythological tourist shop where I'd bought my magical sunscreen during spring break was still there. I popped in, thinking maybe I could see if they sold shoes. I still needed one. 

The only pair I could find had wings sprouting from their sides. I wasn't too keen on winged sandals, given that the last pair I'd encountered (a treacherous gift from Luke) had nearly flown Grover into Tartarus and taken Percy and me with him. I thought maybe I could cut the wings off with my knife, though. 

The cashier was a bored-looking girl who was working away at a mouthful of gum. As she rang me up, a guy in a dark grey uniform and navy cap joined the queue behind me. He was maybe about forty, with wavy, ash-coloured hair and a square jaw. His shoulders were broad, stretching out his polo-shirt, which had a purple stripe across the chest. In his hands was a jar of the same sunscreen I'd purchased months ago—Medea's SPF 50,000.

'Hey there,' he said to me, looking at the shoes I'd picked out. 'Oh, those are fun. Cheap knock-offs, sure, but definitely worth a solid few hours of flight time anyhow.'

'Oh, um, I'm just—I need a shoe, that's all.'

He glanced at my feet and gave me a sympathetic glance. 'I guess you do,' he said. 'Bad luck with monsters?'

'You could say that.'

'Gotta be careful with beasts,' he said sagely. 'Always be prepared, you know? Like how I'm taking a delivery from Hephaestus's forges next.' He held up the sunscreen. 'Got a shipment of bronze bulls, and boy, those things can burn if you're not careful. Gotta stay protected.' 

He put the jar on the counter and winked at the gum-chewing girl. She popped her gum, looking disinterested, and bagged the sunscreen. The delivery guy tipped his cap to her, plonked a handful of drachmas on the counter, and took the bag.

'So,' he said to me, 'where're you headed?'

'Er, Long Island.'

'Hm. Not quite on my route, but if you're looking for a ride, I can get you as far as Wilmington. I'm headed to the port with a delivery.'

'The bronze bulls?' I said cautiously. On one hand, Wilmington would get me halfway to New York. On the other, I had already been attacked once by a monster trying to keep me from camp. I didn't want to walk straight into a trap. 

'Nah, that's the next one. This load's sheep. I'm Ethel, by the way.'

'Ethel?' I repeated, confused. That sounded like a girl's name to me.

'Well, Aethalides, actually. Son of Hermes. I try to help out travellers when I can.'

'Annabeth,' I said. 'Er—daughter of Athena.'

'Ooh, a clever one.' Ethel grinned. 'Well then, Annabeth, daughter of Athena, what do you say to a ride? I'll get us to Wilmington in no time.'

I dithered for about a second. Aethalides, or Ethel, whatever he called himself, seemed sincere enough. And I vaguely recognised his name from Greek mythology. I thought he might be one of the demigods who had eventually been granted immortality, like Heracles and Asclepius, although what he had done to warrant the gift was currently escaping me. At any rate, travelling with a minor god might actually be a better way for me to make it north unmolested by monsters. 

My decision was made for me when a hissing voice came drifting over from the direction of the Memorial: 'I ssssmell the daughter of Athhhhena.'

'Ssssstop the girl,' another voice said. 'You know what the bossss sssssaid. She musssst not go northhhh!'

I didn't know what monsters were on my tail now or why they were so insistent on preventing me from getting to camp. I figured they must just be under orders to prevent back-up from reaching Long Island. 

At any rate, Ethel raised his eyebrows, like, _You really want to turn down my offer now?_

Between monsters and a minor god, I'd take my chances with the latter. 'A lift would be good.'

'Come on,' he said. We ran for his truck, which was white with a big FedEx logo painted across the side. The writing flickered as I got closer, turning into Greek letters that spelled out the words, _Aethalivery Shipping_. 

'Like my gig?' Ethel said. He opened the passenger door for me. I climbed into the cab of the truck. It had metal grates separating the back from the front seats. The smell of wet fur and animal droppings wafted through it. I wrinkled my nose.

'Sorry about the smell,' Ethel said, getting in the driver's seat and starting the engine. 'Like I said, this delivery is sheep.'

He pulled out of the parking lot and made a sharp turn onto Constitution Avenue. I caught a glimpse of two massive, lizard-like creatures on the street corner, looking after us with anger on their scaly faces. Ethel's truck took off faster than I thought possible, leaving the monsters in the dust.

Then a screech like something sharp scraping on metal came from the back of the truck. My breath caught in my throat. That didn't sound like sheep. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see light glinting off whatever was behind us.

'Not just any sheep,' Ethel explained. 'This is a tricky batch. Some Cyclops down south ordered them special. You won't want to go near this lot without armour. They're a man-eating breed.'

I inhaled sharply and my nostrils filled with the ripe smell of sheep shit. What had I just gotten myself into, putting myself at the mercy of a guy with a truck full of man-eating sheep? Someone who was a dealer for a Cyclops, no less.

Ethel looked sideways at me. 'Hey, don't worry,' he said. 'They're caged well and good.'

'Okay,' I said uncertainly. 'Um … do you work for Hermes, then?'

'Nah, I run my own business. My dad gets all the express customers, of course. He's got the rep for it—even mortals know UPS does better than FedEx. All the gods go for Hermes Express if they can afford it. But I do okay. Can't get anything to you instant like he can, but shipping time's decent, and I can deal in larger cargo, too.'

'So you're a god, then?'

'Not exactly. I _was_ a demigod. Started out as a herald for the Argonauts, you know. And my dad gave me the gift of memory—seriously, ask me anything you want. I remember it all.'

I raised my eyebrows. 'Was Odysseus on the Argo?'

'Oh yes. Crafty fellow. He split off at the end, had his own ship to sail and all. He went back through the Sea of Monsters, too, though like an idiot, he went through Scylla and Charybdis. I mean, the Clashing Rocks weren't a picnic, but ye gods, the decisional conflict with those two! I heard he met up with a Cyclops on that trip, but I'd moved on by then, so I'm kind of fuzzy on the details. We didn't exactly keep in touch.'

'Moved on?'

'Into my next body. I, er, migrated, so to speak. My consciousness ended up in Euphorbus, and then Hermotimus … Pyrrhus … Pythagoras—'

'The mathematician?' I said, impressed.

'Yeah, that was the last before I decided the name changes were too annoying. I mean, what's the point if I remember it all, but no one else does? So I kept my original name with the next body. Anyway, what I am now … well, that's the question, isn't it?' Ethel frowned in contemplation. 'I'm not _technically_ immortal—my body certainly isn't—but I don't exactly die either.'

I tried to imagine what it would be like to live on forever—even if it was just your mind. There were some ancient writings from Daedalus, one of the most famous demigod inventors of all time, speculating about the possibility of transferring your own life force to machines, but I didn't think you could actually live on from body to body—as an actual human—without godly intervention. 

'Do you always look the same?' I looked more carefully at Ethel, trying to figure out whether he resembled old paintings of Pythagoras.

'Nah, that was one of the reasons I wanted my name back. I couldn't prove I was me when I had a completely different name _and_ face. And think of all the paperwork with my business! Nobody cares what body you take—the gods change shape all the time, after all—but they _do_ want a name they can put down for receipts and payments. Plus your whole rep hangs on your name, you know?'

'Er, right.'

The sheep in the back gave a high-pitched, metallic screech, like they were ripping up a sheet of iron. We both winced at the sound. 

'I'll be glad to drop off this lot,' Ethel admitted. 'Livestock are always the trickiest. They require such tricky handling. Though I suppose my next cargo isn't gonna be a picnic either.' 

'The bronze bulls?'

'Yeah. Hephaestus's forges. Ever been there?'

I shook my head. 

'Pretty cool place. The volcanoes are beyond anything you've ever seen. They're still active, after all—all the machinery is magma-powered. You can spot them glowing a mile away, even in the dark. Makes navigating a breeze.'

'Where are they?'

'The Sea of Monsters, of course. Same as all the other ancient islands.'

'The Sea of … the one in the Argonautica, and the Odyssey?'

'The very same.'

'It's moved here, too,' I realised. 'In the western migration.' In the ancient stories, the Sea of Monsters that Odysseus and Jason (and it occurred to me, Ethel himself, too) had sailed through on their adventures would have been the present-day Mediterranean Sea. But many of the Greek bases of power shifted as the centre of western civilisation moved from country to country. Mount Olympus, for example, resided above the Empire State Building these days. Gods lived on as long as the legacy of Ancient Greece remained strong among mortals, and they took up residence wherever the heart of civilisation beat strongest. America had taken on that mantle two hundred years ago. All across the country, the mark of the gods could be seen in our architectural monuments. The Lincoln Memorial, which we'd just left, had the form of a Greek temple. I'd gotten a glimpse of others on my quest cross-country last year as well, like the Customs House in Philly. My bucket list was pretty much made up of visiting all the greatest architectural sites in the world.

Anyway, I guess the western migration of the gods was a bit like the way Ethel's consciousness travelled from body to body. The location might change, but the nature of the place was eternal.

'They've actually renamed it,' Ethel said, pulling me back from my mental tangent. 'It's the Bermuda Triangle these days. Catchy, isn't it?'

'I guess,' I said, though I didn't really have an opinion one way or another. Certainly I didn't have much interest in visiting a dangerous body of water. 

Ethel took the next exit off the interstate. 'Well, anyway. Here we are. Wilmington.'

My jaw dropped. I could have sworn we'd been driving for at most half an hour. Wilmington should have been a two-hour drive away from D.C.

'I told you we'd be there in no time,' Ethel said proudly. 'I may not be as quick as Hermes, but I have some tricks up my sleeve. Too bad you're not headed south. I'm even quicker on water. No traffic to bend the Mist around.'

'Wow,' I said. 'It's okay. I don't like water travel so much, anyway.'

Ethel nodded. 'Daughter of Athena, huh? Old feud with Poseidon—yeah, I get it. We had a son of Athena on the Argo. Sailing didn't agree with him much. Neither did all the sons of Poseidon, for that matter. Oh, the arguments … There was this one time Erginus and Leodocus started going at it …'

'Well, my best friend is a son of Poseidon.'

'Is he, now?' Ethel raised his eyebrows. 'Er—he's not a Cyclops, is he?'

'What? No, of course not!'

Ethel held up his hands. 'Just checking. You don't see many mortal demigod children of Poseidon these days. Pity. They're always good to have on a sea voyage. Well, I better get my cargo loaded if I'm to hit the Sea of Monsters today.'

He pulled up at the port, in front of a dark blue steamer waiting in the dock. We both got out of the cab. Ethel shook my hand and wished me good luck. I put on my new shoes and left him to load his killer sheep. 

OoOoO

I made my way north up the Delaware River. Thanks to Ethel, I was more than halfway to New York, but that left me just over a hundred miles to go. Maybe if I got into Philadelphia, the nearest big city, I'd be able to find faster transportation. 

I must have misjudged how close we were to Philly, though, because I walked until nightfall and although I made it across a state line announcing I was now in Pennsylvania, I hadn't yet stumbled into the city. I should have gotten myself a map at the curios store. I didn't think I was far off, since I could see many planes flying low like they were coming in to an airport. Still, I decided it might be prudent to stop for the night. It was way too easy to get lost in the dark. 

There was no handy old hideout this time. I'd have to sleep rough. That in itself wasn't really a problem, since on my quest last year with Percy and Grover, we'd slept in all sorts of places ranging from a woodsy clearing to a smelly zoo transport vehicle. After that, I wasn't too picky. 

The thing was, with three people, you could set up a watch. Now, I had to figure out how to sleep _and_ stay alert for danger. 

I decided to camp up a tree under my invisibility cap (although that wasn't foolproof, as I'd learned from my encounter with the Cynocephalus). I used my dagger to saw off a couple of smaller branches and with a couple of creeper vines, I hung them such that if anything came near, they'd knock into the branches. I tied as many things as I could to them that might make some noise if disturbed—acorns, pebbles, discarded tin cans. It wasn't much of an alarm system, but it would have to do. It would at least give me some warning if I were to be attacked. That could mean the difference between getting away or being eaten.

As an extra precaution, I gathered up a bunch of broken glass bottles that had been left littered around (not great for pollution, but useful for me now). I strew them at intervals around my tree. Maybe they wouldn't stop a monster, but if one did cut its food on a shard of broken glass, chances were it'd make enough noise to wake me.

Finally satisfied, I climbed onto a good, solid branch, stuck my Yankees cap firmly onto my head, leaned up against the trunk and allowed myself to doze off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aethalides (with his migrating consciousness) is another [actual demigod from mythology](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aethalides).


	4. My Sushi Tastes Like Acid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth runs in to save a demigod from monsters, but ends up springing a trap.

I awoke to the sound of an argument. 

A pair of sibilant voices were getting louder as they approached.

'We're not going to find the Princess Andromeda here, you idiot!' said a raspy, vaguely female-sounding voice. 'I tell you, we took a wrong turn.'

'It's close,' the other insisted. This one was deeper, more hoarse, and also emphasised its S'es more. 'I smell demigod.'

I froze. Slowly, quietly, I strapped my backpack onto my shoulder and crouched on my branch, ready to move quickly if I needed to. My bronze dagger, hidden up my sleeve, seemed to tingle against my skin, as if reminding me it was there if I needed it.

'Your nose is stuffed up,' the first voice said dismissively. I still couldn't see the monsters, though I studied the river bank around me carefully. Nothing seemed to be stirring in the dim morning light.

Then the creature continued, 'It's all the muck in this water. Blasted humans and their pollution. It's staining my Donna Karan, look!'

I turned my gaze to the river. Sure enough, two large shadows were gliding along the surface of the water. When they got closer, I could see that they had serpent-like necks rising up from bodies that from this angle looked only like dark shapes in the water. The skin of their necks was scaly. It shimmered such that it wasn't any distinct colour but a shifting blend of green, blue, and orange shades. They had raptor-like heads crowned with a plume of bright red. One of them tested the air with a forked tongue. The other yawned, revealing a row of crooked but sharp yellow teeth.

'We're obviously up a river,' Forked-Tongue said in her raspy voice. 'You're a miserable excuse for a _ketea_ if you can't tell that.' My mind automatically translated the Greek: sea serpent. 'We should have gone up the coast. That's where we'll find the Princess Andromeda.'

The name was familiar. She was an an ancient princess, I remembered, who'd been chained to a rock as a sacrifice to a sea monster—at least until the Greek hero Perseus had saved her. I wondered who the modern day Andromeda was. I hoped she was good and hidden.

'I tell you, I smell demigod,' Yellow-Teeth hissed.

My hand closed around the hilt of my dagger. I could feel my heart rate increasing. The _ketea_ glided on, however, not stopping. I waited, barely breathing …

'There!' Yellow-Teeth cried out.

Forked-Tongue let out an excited-sounding breath. Her tongue whipped about in the air. 'You're right! Breakfast time,' she said. 

The _ketea_ exchanged a look. Then they started charging forward with powerful strokes of their tails.

It wasn't me they'd noticed. I could have made my getaway then, while they were focused on their prey. 

But there was a demigod upriver who was about to be in serious trouble.

I climbed down my tree, picked my way through my broken glass trap, and started sprinting up along the river bank, following the wake of the _ketea_.

A short way upriver, I heard a strange spitting sound, like a shot out of a water gun, followed by a sizzling noise. Thinking it was perhaps the demigod the _ketea_ were after fighting them off, I sped up. I passed a rusty old bicycle hooked up to a wagon and then burst into a clearing. A big rock sat in the centre and someone was lashed to it. It wasn't a girl, though, as I'd expected, but a man in a pin-striped business suit. 

The _ketea_ were coming up from the river, moving slower now as they balanced on spindly legs that seemed too frail to hold up their massive bodies. Their powerful tails pushed against the ground behind them, steadying them as they crawled along. Now that they were out of the water, I could see that they were wearing well-fitted blouses over their upper halves. Forked-Tongue's was elegant peach silk with an oily-looking stain around the base. Yellow-Teeth had a vintage sort of design, and a set of ornate rings adorned his tail.

Both _ketea_ stopped suddenly before they reached the man on the rock.

'What is _that_?' Forked-Tongue said.

A two-headed creature was waddling towards them. It was about the size of a duck and its four legs did end in webbed feet, but the two necks that sprouted from its body each ended in a scaly head with pointed ears and stubby horns. One head opened its mouths and spat a jet of acid straight at the _ketea_. The jet made a sizzling noise when it hit Yellow-Teeth in the chest.

'That's vintage Oscar de la Renta!' Yellow-Teeth howled. He looked down at the little acid hole in his blouse and the singed ring around it. 'You'll pay for that.' He took a deep breath, opened his mouth wide, and breathed out a column of fire at the two-headed duck creature. 

The tiny monster let out a squawk of terror and ran from the flames. It hid behind the rock. The man strapped to it groaned and shouted, 'Noooo!'

I gathered my wits quickly. The little monster was distracting the _ketea_ for now—Yellow-Teeth was trying to chase it, but his progress was slow and lumbering—but they would turn their attention to the poor man tied to the rock soon enough. I leapt up onto Forked-Tongue's back. Before she could twist around to see what had attacked her, I buried my dagger into the base of her neck.

I had to jump off quickly as Forked-Tongue shot flames towards me. My cap flew off my head as I hit the ground and rolled away. That flaming attack was her last, though. With the celestial bronze sunken in her flesh, the _ketos_ disintegrated around my dagger. I snatched it up quickly as Yellow-Teeth turned to see his companion crumble to ash. He focused his attention on me immediately. 

'Demigod!' he screamed. His head darted forward at me and I ran back, avoiding another burst of flames. I'd distracted him from the two-headed duck, though, and it resumed its acid attack, this time with both heads. The acid stung Yellow-Teeth in the legs, which collapsed under him. His body made a loud _whump_ as he hit the ground. He twisted his neck back to face the two-headed duck and I took my chance. Once again, I repeated my leap onto the _ketos_ 's back. My blade found the weak spot in his neck and drove in. 

In a shower of fine ash, Yellow-Teeth followed his companion to Tartarus. 

I ran to the man on the rock, but he shook his head frantically at me.

'Don't let your guard down!' he cried. 'Behind you!'

I cursed and turned just in time to dodge a spray of acid from the two-headed duck. We'd been momentarily united against the _ketea_ , so I'd forgotten that it was still a monster, too.

'You have to cut its head off!' the man on the rock advised me. I didn't have time to wonder how he'd managed to end up tied there with such a small monster terrorising him. The two-headed duck waddled towards me, shooting more acid. One jet grazed my left arm, sending pain searing across my nerves as it ate at my skin. Luckily, it wasn't my knife hand. 

It was a good thing the monster was small, or I'd have been hard-pressed to slay it without a sword. I managed to jump right over it. Once I handed behind it, I brought my dagger across both its necks in one stroke. Two football-size heads dropped to the ground, severed by my bronze blade.

I went back to the man on the rock and sliced through the ropes tying him down. As soon as he was freed, he clapped his hands together in delight.

'Thank you!' he said. 'That was excellent!'

_Schloop_. The sucking noise behind me made me whirl around. I watched in horror as the monster I'd just decapitated started regenerating its scaly heads. Worse still, out of each stump, _two_ new heads grew, making it a _four_ -headed monster now.

The ground started to shake. The man pulled me aside as the rock he'd been tied to split apart. A building burst fully-formed out of the ground. It had an oriental design, with a bamboo roof and cherry blossoms hanging from the windows. Neon letters over the door shouted _SLUSHY MOSS TEA_.

I blinked and decided it probably actually read _SUSHI MONSTER_.

The now four-headed monster squawked in a self-satisfied sort of way. 

'Yes, yes, well done, Kaiju,' the man said. He reached into his pocket and tossed four little white balls into the air. The monster's heads snapped them up immediately.

'What—how—' I stared between man and monster.

'Oh, would you like a rice ball, too?' said the man pleasantly.

'Um, no, thanks. It—that thing—it wasn't attacking you?'

'Oh no, Kaiju's … well, a business partner, of sorts.' He glanced at my arm, which was still stinging from the acid. 'Allow me,' he said, taking my arm. He passed a hand over the wound and muttered a few words in Ancient Greek. I'd seen some of the Apollo campers do it before—a healing incantation. My arm didn't stop hurting entirely, but the stinging burn eased a little, as though someone had sprinkled cool water on it.

'Thanks,' I said. 'Who—who are you?'

'Tyler Ichiro, at your service,' the man said. He reached into the breast pocket of his suit and handed me a name card. 'Son of Apollo.'

That explained his healing powers. The back of the card had a picture of the monster—with only two heads—juggling a circle of sushi. I looked from it to the _SUSHI MONSTER_ building. 'That's your … restaurant?'

'Newest outlet!' Tyler said proudly. 'I'm trying to break into the franchising business, so of course I had to breed Kaiju here to help.'

'Breed him,' I repeated, not quite getting what a monster had to do with a business—or how it could make a restaurant spring out of the ground.

'Bonsai Hydra,' Tyler explained. 'You tie their life force to your store and when they regenerate …' He spread his hands towards the restaurant as if to say, _tada!_

'You bred a Hydra _on purpose_.'

'Bonsai Hydra,' he corrected. 'A lot of the early enterprises back when the technique was invented in the 50's—well, a son of Hermes perfected the magic, I think, _totally_ genius—anyway, they did use actual Hydras. I mean, they _are_ bigger and more powerful, so your expansion will be more rapid. That's how a lot of the big chains got their start. You know, Walmart, Food Lion, Jack in the Box …'

I guessed that made sense. Chain stores had really taken off in the last fifty years or so. I just had never considered that there might be some magic driving it.

'Problem is,' Tyler continued, 'there was that pesky detail of the Hydras tending to eat the owners and take over the business. Most of them are still going strong—they just wander around and find new areas to nest, and next thing you know, _boom_! Instant franchise.' He opened the restaurant door and Kaiju the bonsai Hydra waddled in contentedly. 'The bonsais are much tamer, even if getting them to regenerate is more complicated. But if we're going to talk business, let's do it over tea and sushi.'

'I don't—' I started, but my stomach gave a loud rumble, reminding me I hadn't had breakfast. Tyler laughed and guided me into the restaurant. 

Inside, it was set up with a central table where colourful dishes of sushi came out of a flap in the wall and revolved on a conveyer belt. Bar stools were set along it at regular intervals. Kaiju sat at one end, scarfing sushi—plates and all—as it emerged. I wondered who was actually making it, or if Kaiju's life force was enough to power the cooking as well. 

Tyler motioned at me to take a seat, and pulled several plates onto the table in front of us.

'Eat up,' he said. 'I do apologise for the deception just now, but it was necessary, you see. The problem with bonsai Hydras is that they can't be beheaded by their breeders. I had to get someone else to fight Kaiju.'

'You just tied yourself to a rock and staged a fight? That was really—' _Stupid_ , I wanted to say, but I decided to go with, 'dangerous! How did you know anyone would come round to help?'

'Oh, I saw your little trap with the tree in the park. I guessed there was a fair chance you'd step in. Most demigods have quite the heroic streak. The guy who did Kaiju's first head—well, he couldn't resist jumping into the fight. Pity what happened to him. Those other monsters turning up—well, that was an unexpected complication, but I guess entrepreneurship is always risky, isn't it?'

It struck me that I was quite possibly dealing with an utter madman. And what had happened to his first demigod fighter? I thought about asking, but I got the feeling I wouldn't like the answer.

'Anyway, you handled it beautifully, my dear,' Tyler said. 'I'm sure we're going to make fantastic business partners.'

'Um,' I said, 'thanks, but I don't really want to go into business. I'm on my way to New York, and I really should be going.'

'Oh, New York. Yes, excellent idea, a sushi joint would really take off there. Marvellous. See, that's what I'm talking about. You've got a good sense for business. We shall definitely build the next franchise outlet there.'

'That's great,' I tried again, 'good luck with that. And thanks for the sushi, but I really have to go.' I stood up, but so did Tyler.

'Now, now,' he said, 'don't be so hasty. I've got a good business set-up here. This is a great investment. And all you'll need to do is fight Kaiju daily. It's hardly a chore.'

Kaiju stopped eating and waddled over to stand by Tyler's side. He had grown in the last five minutes, now approximately the size of a pit bull. All eight of his eyes fixed on me.

'I really don't—'

Tyler shook his head. 'I really must insist.' His voice was carefully pleasant, but with a slightly unnerving undertone. Kaiju was less subtle. He made a low, threatening growl deep in one of his throats. 

I swallowed hard.

Tyler raised his eyebrows and smiled predatorily. My eyes darted to the door, wondering if I could make it there before Tyler blocked me, or worse, Kaiju sprayed me with acid. I didn't think Tyler would be so generous with his healing powers this time.

I decided I didn't have a choice. If I tried fighting, I'd be doing exactly what Tyler wanted.

In a sudden flash of inspiration, I flung my arms across the conveyor belt and flipped a bunch of plates into the air. They flew at Kaiju, whose four heads were distracted, snapping up as many as they could catch. Tyler lunged at me, but I swiped my dagger through the air in an arc before me, driving him back. He was a demigod, too—just as susceptible as his pet to celestial bronze. I turned and fled, pausing only to pick up my Yankee's cap where it had fallen off in the clearing. I jammed it on my head, buying myself more time as I vanished from view. Tyler stopped, confused by my disappearance.

I ran on out of the clearing. The bicycle and wagon I'd passed earlier were still parked where I'd seen it. I had another stroke of brilliance: I unhitched the wagon, swung my leg over the bicycle frame, and pedalled frantically. I sped away from Tyler and his monstrous franchise, a bit put out by the experience. On the whole though, maybe it had been sort of a godsend. Hijacking Tyler's bicycle (at least, I assumed it was his) meant I now had a much faster mode of transportation than my legs. 

I made steady ground all the way up the Delaware, past Philadelphia, through Trenton, before things started to go wrong. Don't ask me why it took that long for the bicycle to start rebelling. 

For the first couple of hours, I wouldn't even have suspected that it was anything but a normal bike. Then it started to buck underneath me like a wild horse. I had to grip the handlebars tightly to keep from getting thrown off. Then the handlebars started warping. I found myself grabbing hold of two large, floppy ears. The saddle I was sitting on expanded into the furry round backside of a giant hare.

Its powerful hindquarters pounded along the pavement, still charging ahead at full speed while it tossed its head from side to side, trying to unseat me. Pedestrians swerved out of its way, swearing at me. I don't know what they saw through the Mist—probably just a girl on a wobbly bicycle weaving an erratic path through their midst.

We burst into a park with rows of neatly planted trees and bushes, where my leporine steed bumped up fiercely against the thick trunk of an oak tree. The force of it threw me off at last. I landed heavily on my butt and lay, winded, flat on my back. The hare took a vicious swipe at me, its sharp claws ripping through my jeans, but fortunately it seemed to consider this suitable punishment for my crimes. With a final baleful glance at me, it bounded off through the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Annabeth plays the role in canon of supplying Percy with information, but I figured she had to get that knowledge from somewhere, and it’s more fun if it’s not all out of books. What did you think about her adventures so far? I know I’ve really spun ‘ _Monsters have been chasing me all the way from Virginia_ ’ out as far as it will go! I promise she’s going to meet up with Percy soon!


	5. I Go Hang-Gliding Over Central Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two more monster encounters later, Annabeth finally makes it to Percy's fire escape.

I sat in the park for a short while, catching my breath and taking stock of my injuries. The acid burn from the bonsai Hydra was already healing up nicely, thanks to Tyler. The hare's claw had torn shreds out of my jeans, but the cuts beneath them were superficial. My bum was sore from hours of cycling and I probably looked like a bedraggled mess. My hair, which I'd put up in a ponytail at some point, was so tangled I couldn't even find the elastic in the mess of curls. But none of this was serious. I'd been in worse scrapes. 

The more important thing was to figure out where I was and how I'd get to Manhattan from here. I'd already been two days on the road. 

I picked myself up and looked around me. The park I was in was large and square, and the trees had been planted in two neat rows that formed an archway over the grass. At the end, paved paths criss-crossed in a six-pointed pattern, with one leading to an orange-and-black building. It had a white domed toward rising out of the centre. A group of people were coming down the path, led by a boy in a bright orange sweatshirt that was about the same shade as my camp t-shirt. Large black letters proclaimed _PRINCETON_ across his chest.

'We're moving on now to the University Art Museum,' the boy—I guess he was a student tour guide—announced to the group. 'Like the Hall you've just seen, it has a rich history as well, dating back to the late 1800s. Our Art and Archaeology departments are both housed here, so besides the art displays, there's also a good collection of Greek and Roman antiquities.'

My ears pricked up. I tried to blent in unobtrusively at the back of the tour group as it followed the student guide. I didn't have time to take a tour, but it wouldn't hurt to have a look at the exterior architecture before trying to find my next ride north.

The museum lawn was full of sculptures. Most of them were rather abstract, like this blue and bronze oval with a figure-eight hole in the centre, or a series of geometric shapes made out of steel that balanced on one long extension. The sign in front of that one called it the 'Cubi XIII'. I thought it resembled a four-armed stick-man with a hammer on his head. There were animal statues, too, including a great number of tigers, which the student guide explained were the mascots of Princeton University. They made a sort of honour guard leading to the entrance of the museum.

The building itself was pretty modern. I stood next to one of the tiger sculptures and studied it. It was a pretty clean design: brown panelled walls interspersed with green-tinted full-length windows. I was about to split from the group and see if I could find a bus or train station—Princeton was in New Jersey, which meant I was really close now—when I heard a deep growl.

My heart sank. Not _another_ monster! Though I guess I should have expected it. There was certainly no end to the supply of monsters Kronos could engage to keep me from getting to camp.

The noise was coming from the nearest tiger sculpture. I backed away quickly, wondering if they were all actually monsters in disguise. It would be just my luck. Then I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. 

The tiger pounced so quickly, I barely had time to react. It was black like the rest of the sculptures, blending in easily among them. I flattened myself on the ground so that instead of barrelling into me, it leapt over my head, hit the paved path leading up to the museum, and skidded towards the entrance. It let out a deafening roar, making the whole tour group on the museum steps turn around. I don't know what they saw, but they started screaming. The student tour guide yelled for everyone not to panic, but as the tiger bowled through them, he looked as though he might wet himself. 

I drew my dagger as the tiger braced itself against the building and used it to spin around. It had amazing control—its paws barely made a sound as they hit the glass panels. Unfortunately, its tail gave a powerful swish straight into the windows. They shattered amidst more terrified screams.

The tiger came sprinting back down the museum path, straight at me.

'Oh, bronze bulls,' someone swore, 'not _again_! Cubi eight, command sequence: Smith-Beta one-six-nine. Tiger defence—begin activation!'

Somewhere to my left, the geometrical sculpture sprung to life, whirling like a top. Like a discus-thrower, it flung out three spinning objects that flew straight at the tiger. One of the discs sliced the tiger's head right off—it dissolved, mid-lunge—but the other two went sailing across the lawn straight into the museum walls. They collided with a crash, denting the panels. 

A balding man around my father's age came limping down the path, though he moved rather quickly for a guy who used a walking stick. He wore one of those tweed sweater-vests that went out of fashion years ago, and although the hair at the top of his head was thinning and grey, he sprouted an impressive brown beard that obscured his mouth and chin completely. He sized me up with intelligent dark brown eyes.

'Well,' he said gruffly, turning back to assess the damage to the museum, 'at least the sculptures are intact this time.'

He shuffle over to the Cubi XIII, which was still spinning, and said firmly, 'Commence deactivation.' It slowed gradually, like a top running out of energy. When it finally stopped revolving, a little keypad shot out of the circle—the part I'd thought looked like a stick-figure head—and the man punched a code into it. The keypad retracted and the sculpture went still. 

'Automatons,' the man explained. 'They can be pretty useful, but don't ever forget to deactivate them.'

'Er, okay,' I said. 'How did you—I mean, thank you—'

'You're a demigod, aren't you?' the man said. 'Probably with a strong scent, too, since it went for you and not me. I get a couple of monsters now and then. Must have been like a flare beacon, with two of us smelling twice as much.'

'You're a demigod, too,' I realised. Given that I'd already met two on my journey so far, I shouldn't have been so surprised, but this man was my dad's age, if not older. I'd grown up learning how rare it was for demigods to live past their twenties. Running into three adult demigods—well, two, if you considered that Ethel was basically sort of immortal—in as many days seemed far too coincidental.

'What gave it away?' the man said dryly. He glanced across the lawn. Campus security was coming up from the green. 'Perhaps we should speak in my office.'

I hesitated. My experiences so far had been pretty much fifty-fifty. Following a stranger into an enclosed space was always a risk. Then again, if he'd meant me harm, all he'd needed to do was let the tiger finish the job. 

My reluctance didn't go unnoticed. The man gave a curt little laugh. 'Suspicious one, aren't you? Well, that's good, I guess. It'll keep you alive longer. Take it from someone who managed to grow up. I'm Benjamin Daly. My dad's Hephaestus. I'll let you be if you want, but I imagine you're not going to want to deal with _them_ on your own.' He jerked his head towards the scowling officers. 

He was right. I nodded and followed him. One of the security officers came up to him as we entered the museum. 

'Prof Daly,' he said, 'You know what happened?'

'Idiot theatre students and a mishandled buggy full of props,' Benjamin Daly lied glibly. 'They've high-tailed it, of course. If you can just take care of the shattered glass. And, uh, that lot.' He indicated the tour groups, some of whom were still hyperventilating. 'I have a student project to discuss.' He put his free hand on my shoulder.

The officer rolled his eyes and went off.

Prof Daly released me and we continued into the building. 'You're a university professor,' I said, impressed.

He nodded. 'Architectural design.'

My eyes widened. 'Really?'

'Hmph. What's with the tone of surprise? I'll have you know we cabin nine folk are pretty good at designing.'

'No, I didn't mean—well, _I_ want to be an architect when I grow up,' I told him. 'I'm Annabeth Chase. My mom is Athena.' Then I realised what he'd said. 'Cabin nine—you know Camp Half-Blood, then?'

'Well, of course. I went there, once upon a time, didn't I? Hmph. So you like architecture. Well, you have the lineage for it.'

'Did you make the automatons here?' I asked.

'No, of course not. The sculptures are all older than me. I suspect the original architect for Princeton was a half-blood, too. Automatons would have come in very useful when this place was a stronghold in the Revolutionary War. I just figured out how to activate them—handy trick to keep the monsters at bay, though it gets a bit messy sometimes, as you saw.'

I winced, thinking of the ruined glass and dented walls. 'Sorry.'

Prof Daly waved his hand dismissively. 'It's happened before. I just get some students to do a building project. Monsters find me from time to time, so I need the automatons. I'm hardly in fighting shape these days. But like I said, you need to know what you're doing with automatons. They become unstable over time if you leave them activated for too long.'

We turned down a long corridor and Prof Daly unlocked the door to his office. 'So,' he said, once he'd taken a seat behind his desk. 'What brings you to Princeton, Annabeth Chase?'

I explained about Camp Half-Blood and my journey north from Richmond. Prof Daly smiled faintly when I mentioned stopping to check out the museum architecture before carrying on.

'I helped work on the design of the building when we expanded it, you know,' he said.

'It's very … modern,' I said carefully.

'Yes, no overt Greek influences, I'm afraid,' Prof Daly agreed. 'But I left the outer appearance to someone else. I went for interior function. You'll find the exhibition halls match the collections they showcase perfectly. All the interior designing follows the time periods of the exhibits. It's like Daedalus's Labyrinth—you'll know Daedalus, of course?—except you're only travelling through time figuratively in a museum.'

'Have you been _in_ the Labyrinth, then?' I said in awe.

His face closed off a little. 'Once,' he said, but he didn't elaborate. 'If you're an architect worth your salt, though, you should spend some solid time studying the Labyrinth. It was the pinnacle of architecture in its time—arguably even now.' He reached across the table and pulled a book off a shelf. He opened it to a page with various pictures of monuments, all of which were on my bucket list: the Statue of Liberty, Hoover Dam, the Golden Gate Bridge …

'Buildings aren't just expressive sculptures, Miss Chase. They embody aspirations—that of the architect, but also that of society.'

I found myself nodding fervently at his words. Last year, I'd ended up in a time-warped casino in Las Vegas (another long story) where I'd gotten the chance to build my own utopian city. I felt like every bit of my design had to match not only what I wanted to express, but what I believed that ideal world to be.

'Each of these pieces tell the history of their time period, but no structure has managed to embody the spirit of architecture better than the Labyrinth,' Prof Daly said. 'Great architecture makes a statement about civilisation. Truly great architecture lives and breathes. It is like an idea—an archetype like the gods themselves.'

'I want to build something that great,' I admitted. 'A monument that will last forever.'

Prof Daly laughed, though not unkindly. 'Good luck with that,' he said. 'We still don't know about forever. They do say the gods themselves are only immortal as long as western civilisation continues. Even Chiron—I assume the old centaur is still at camp?'

'Yeah … he taught you, too?'

'Oh yes,' Prof Daly said fondly. 'He said to me once, though, that he doesn't take immortality for granted, even though he's trained heroes for three thousand years. His life force is still tied to the tradition of teaching.'

'I think I remember him saying that before.'

'So you see, forever is a difficult construct to pin down.'

We both fell silent as we considered this. I thought about Kronos, trying to return to power with Luke's help and destroy western civilisation. Would that in fact cause everything to crumble—both the mortal _and_ mythological worlds? I could conceptualise death—I'd been to the Underworld, after all—but the idea that none of this, not a single experience, would exist, or even be known to have existed … I couldn't wrap my head around it at all.

'I supposed that's quite enough philosophy for a little chat,' Prof Daly said wryly, looking at my expression. 'Sorry, it's an occupational hazard of being an academic.' He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. 'Well, Miss Chase, I wish you luck with your dreams. But in the present, it seems you have other more urgent goals.' He looked at his watch. 'I suppose I can take an early day. I commute in from Edison, and that's close enough to the Jersey border, I imagine. I can give you a lift.'

'Oh, that's—that's nice of you,' I said.

Prof Daly shrugged. 'I can afford to help a fellow demigod once in a while. Let's just hope we don't attract any more friends from Tartarus along the way.'

The traffic on Route One was horrendous, but it probably wasn't monster-induced. By the time Prof Daly pulled into Edison, it was late evening. He looked dubiously at the setting sun. 

'If you want,' he offered, 'I have a couch you could camp on for the night.'

'I probably should keep moving,' I said. 'Thanks, though.'

'Well, if you're sure.'

He dropped me off at the transit rail station, where I spent the rest of the money my dad had given me on a ticket to New York. An hour later, finally, I was at Penn Station.

I came out of the station and walked the familiar road down to the foot of the Empire State Building. The last time I'd been here, over a year ago, was on a camp field trip to visit the Olympian Winter Solstice council. High above, on the 600th floor, was Mount Olympus, the home of the gods. Where my mother lived.

I wished I could go up again. For a moment, I imagined what it would be like if I were a regular kid, the kind with a mortal mom at whose home I could spend the night. But Olympus wasn't like that—you didn't just saunter in without an invitation. Gods had blasted people out of the sky for even coming too close sans permission.

Instead, I dug out Percy's letter from my bag and checked the address. I knew Percy had printed it out carefully—the most legible part of his letter—but over the last three days, the letter had gotten crumpled and damp, and the ink was smudged. Coupled with my dyslexia and the limited light as night fell, I struggled to make out the letters on the page. My mind registered the numbers— _5_ , _108_ , _82_ —but the letters felt jumbled. I knew Percy lived on the Upper East Side, though, so I started walking north along Fifth Avenue. 

The grid-like streets felt increasingly hostile and threatening as the sky overhead grew dark. It was a cloudy, starless night, with not even a comforting moon in sight. The skyscrapers towered over me, casting long shadows. I was reminded terrifyingly of that time in Brooklyn with Luke, Thalia, and Grover, the one I'd dreamed of several nights back. It had been a situation just like this, trying to find our way in an unfamiliar city, that had resulted in our wandering into the Cyclops's mansion. Every homeless bum I passed seemed to leer malevolently at me. Any one of them could be a Cyclops, living on the streets like they did. Searching for Percy's apartment in the dark suddenly felt like a really bad idea.

I could probably have gone straight to camp. Now that I was in the New York area, I could call up the magical taxi service that canvassed the state. But I really wanted to find Percy. It just felt important to me. Probably because I'd made him promise last year not to go adventuring without me; it hardly seemed fair not to return the favour. Besides, Chiron had said to tell him … well, I didn't know what, but either way, I should find him. And then there was the first dream I'd had, that had started everything, about the Cyclops in Percy's school. Yes, there were many reasons why I should wait so that we could go into camp together. 

I reached Central Park with some relief. The natural space was more reassuring to me than the claustrophobic streets squeezed between high-rise buildings. I decided the park was as good a place as any to camp out while I waited for morning to come.

OoOoO

I slept fitfully, waking often at every random noise: the revving of a distant car engine, the laughter of drunk college students stumbling past, the hoot of an owl. I was still drowsy when the sky began to lighten. My neck ached from days of sleeping rough. My backpack was a foot away—I'd started out using it as a pillow, but I'd rolled off it at some point. At least my cap was still on my head, giving me the small protection of invisibility.

I rubbed my eyes blearily and yawned. And then I was suddenly alert as a shadow fell over me. The shape of an enormous bird of prey blotted out the sky. It resembled an eagle, but it was easily twice the size of any eagle I'd ever seen. Its head was thin and raptor-like and its plumage jet-black. I saw the wings spread wide for a second before they angled backwards and the bird swooped. It resembled an My arms flew up automatically to shield my head, but the bird went for my backpack. Its talons closed over the bag and its wings extended again to take flight. 

'No!' I cried, and dove for my backpack. My finger closed around it just as the bird took off. With the bag weighed down by an invisible demigod, I hoped the bird would just let go, but it was incredibly powerful. It was perhaps a roc—an ancient bird of prey strong enough to lift an elephant. Its claws sunk deeper into my backpack and with a violent flap of its magnificent wings, it lifted off, dragging me into the air as I clung to my backpack.

The jerk as we took off shook my cap from my head. I caught it before it could fall to the ground, an action that left me hanging precariously to my backpack with only one hand. I shoved my cap in my pocket and got a better grip around the bag strap with that hand. No longer invisible, my backpack and I swung from the roc's feet like a crazy hang-glider soaring over Central Park. The roc flapped laboriously, slowly gaining height, and I realised I was in serious trouble. Even if I managed to free my bag from its claws, I would have a fifty foot drop to deal with, and it was getting higher by the minute.

There was a ripping noise and I saw the seams of my backpack straining, starting to split. 

'Oh gods,' I breathed, 'mayday!' I wasn't sure why I'd blurted that out—I think I picked up the word from my dad, who had been researching historical air battles recently.

My feet tingled. My shoes, the ones I'd bought in Washington, were vibrating. The wings at their sides—which I'd forgotten to cut off—extended and began to flap. I continued to be dragged along by the roc, but the strain on my arms evaporated and the pressure was off my backpack. 

My shoes were flying me along. Completely by chance, I'd stumbled on the code word to activate them. (I certainly hadn't bothered to check what it was on the packaging that I'd thrown out immediately after buying them.)

Responding to the lightening of the weight it was carrying, the roc soared even higher. I had to act quickly. Now that my shoes were bearing my weight, I could hang on single-handedly with ease while I drew my knife. 

I didn't want to attack the roc since I really just needed to get my things away from it. So I slashed at the cloth of my backpack just under where the roc's talons had dug in. The lower half came free in my other hand, leaving only tattered strips of cloth hanging off the roc's claws. I accidentally scraped the tip of my dagger against its feet, though, and it let out an angry screech and shot upwards. One sharp claw raked briefly across my cheek.

My hand flew to my face. My other arm hugged my backpack close to my chest. I twisted my body instinctively towards the earth, thinking to descend, but that position sent me diving headfirst towards the skyscrapers below. My drachmas slipped out of the holes in my backpack in a shower of gold. The eagle, cheated of its loot, went into a spiralling dive after them.

I pulled myself upright and tried to pretend like I was going down a flight of stairs. That seemed to work better. My feet flailed a lot as the winged shoes pulled them this way and that, but I had a bit more control over the descent. 

It got harder the closer I got to land, as I had to weave among the buildings, trying not to fly into a wall. About five storeys above ground, I swerved out of the way of one brownstone building and snagged my shirt on the rusty edge of a fire escape landing opposite of it. I caught the rail with my free hand and swung myself onto the landing with a thump. The winged shoes stopped once my feet hit the steel platform. I dropped my bag onto the landing and leaned up against the railing to catch my breath.

I stared at the wings sprouting from either sides of my sneakers. They were still extended, floating lazily up and down. I'd planned to cut them off and it was lucky that I'd forgotten to do so, but I still didn't feel like I trusted them. That erratic flight down could just as easily have killed me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to control them properly. 

I took my knife and sliced off the wings. They turned into a pile of feathers and floated off towards the ground. 

Having taken care of that, I touched my cheek gingerly. There was a stinging line of blood where the eagle had clawed me. I dabbed it with the teeniest bit of nectar from my flask, which was excruciating on immediate contact, but then relieving once the godly liquid began to work its magic. I wiped the blood off my face with my sleeve.

Then I looked up, straight through the window at the end of the fire escape landing. I was outside a boy's bedroom and its occupant was sitting bolt upright in bed like he'd been startled awake. My landing must have roused him.

The glass was grimy—streaked with bird droppings and dirty rainwater—so I hoped he couldn't see me clearly. I pulled my Yankees cap on quickly, before he could get up to investigate. I heard a knock on the door inside and the muffled voice of a woman. The boy swung himself out of bed. He passed close to the window as he started to get dressed, and my heart did a couple of cartwheels and a back flip when I saw his tousled black hair, lanky frame, and eyes that were a captivating shade of green.

Somehow, I'd managed to land right outside the bedroom window of my best friend, Percy Jackson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prof Daly's comment about buildings and architecture was inspired by a [TED talk by Michael Murphy](https://www.ted.com/talks/michael_murphy_architecture_that_s_built_to_heal). (And yes, I admit I listened to it solely because I was writing Annabeth fic. Who says writing fanfiction doesn't broaden your mind? :P)


	6. A School Gym Goes Up In Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth tries to catch Percy all morning, and eventually ends up battling giants in his school.

I stared for several seconds before I caught myself. Percy was stripping out of his pyjamas, which really wasn't something I ought to be watching. Although he didn't look half bad without his shirt on. Percy was a bit on the scrawny side, but he seemed to have filled out a little over the year, gained some muscle ...

My cheeks felt hot. It was a while before I dared to peek through the window again. He was dressed by then, in jeans and a t-shirt, and I was just in time to see him make a warding gesture—pushing three fingers curled in a claw away from his heart—and leave the room.

I wondered if he'd sensed me watching him. My face burned even more, thinking he might be making the ward against me.

Shaking the thought away, I peered more closely through the dirty window, examining Percy's room. It was pretty tiny, about half the size of mine. His bed took up the entire wall across from the window. He'd left it unmade, with his pyjamas in a messy pile at the foot. A chest of drawers spanned the wall perpendicular to the bed. The top drawer was open, revealing t-shirts, shorts, and underwear stuffed haphazardly inside. A few mismatched socks spilled over the edge. Next to the window was a little desk and chair. A duffel bag sat open on the desk and I could see bright orange t-shirts stuffed inside. That made me smile. He'd been getting ready for camp, too.

Propped against the side of the desk was a javelin, which made me wonder if Percy had been practising, and where. His room looked too tiny to swing a weapon. Maybe there was more space in the rest of the apartment. The javelin's shaft leaned up against a clock that read fifteen minutes past seven. I guessed Percy would be off to school soon. I could catch him when he came out of the building, which was probably a better plan than breaking his window to sneak into his house (I doubted his mom would like me much if I did that) or trying to figure out the right apartment from inside the building. Also, in the meantime … I could see a Starbucks at the corner of the brownstone building I'd nearly collided with earlier. The smell of freshly brewed coffee was extremely inviting.

I climbed down the fire escape and crossed the rod to join the queue of bleary-eyed New Yorkers ordering their morning pick-me-up on their way to work. They were all dressed in business suits, carrying briefcases and smelling of perfume and cologne. They glanced disapprovingly at me and gave me a wide berth, as though my unkempt appearance might be contagious. 

It made me self-conscious. As soon as the barista handed me my order, I ducked out of the café and put my invisibility cap back on so I could drink my peppermint cappucino in peace, without the judgemental stares of New York's business elite. I savoured the first sweet, invigorating sip of coffee, and then I spotted Percy jogging down 104th Street. 

'Athena's owls!' I muttered, and downed my latte quickly, nearly scalding my throat, just so I could catch up to Percy before the morning crowd swallowed him up. 

I tailed him all the way to the subway station and was about to take my cap off and hail him when he lifted his arm towards someone at the station entrance, waving a greeting. I stopped short, my stomach turning over. Standing by the entrance was the Cyclops student I'd seen in my dreams: broad-shouldered and muscly, so tall he had to duck to fit the station entrance, with crooked teeth, chubby cheeks, and an innocent-looking brown eye. Except he couldn't _be_ innocent. No Cyclops was. 

Percy didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. 'Tyson!' he called cheerfully, high-fiving the Cyclops like they were old friends. 'All good, big guy?' 

They disappeared into the station, followed by a swarm of suits. I hurried after them. 

Much as I worried about Percy (and marvelled that he hadn't noticed anything weird about Tyson), it was just as well he was with the Cyclops. The monster's head bobbed over the rest of the morning rush, helping me to keep them in sight. The subway was packed. I would have lost Percy in the crowd without Tyson sticking out like a beacon. As it was, when the pair of them (well, Tyson's head, at least, and presumably Percy with him) got off at Chambers Street Station, I tried to squeeze through the sea of suits to the exit, but it wouldn't part. I'd neglected to take my cap off, and nobody could see me trying to pass. In fact, the stocky lady in six-inch heels whom I tried to squeeze past turned to the man next to her and demanded, 'Did you just _shove_ me?'

They broke into a heated argument. I missed the stop. By the time I managed to get off, get the other train line going back and finally emerged on Chambers Street, Percy and Tyson were long gone. 

I jogged up and down the Tribeca district, looking for a school. Hopefully I wouldn't have to search a whole bunch of them before I found Percy's. I finally came across a grey building surrounded by a run-down wire fence. Someone had done a recent paint job on the front wall so that it was a different, lighter shade of grey from the rest of the building. The words ' _MERIWETHER COLLEGE PREPARATORY SCHOOL_ ' were engraved in large black letters over a set of double doors.

I figured this was probably it. I was even more convinced when I saw the yard, which looked like it had seen recent battle. Random scraps of cloth and paper littered the ground (including something that looked suspiciously like underwear), drops of what was either rust-coloured paint or dried blood splattered the asphalt, and the bars of the jungle gym were bent out of shape. I could certainly think of one creature I'd seen today that was strong enough to do that. 

My heart in my mouth, I slipped past the snoozing guard at the school gate, inched one of the heavy double doors open, and slipped into Meriwether Prep.

The first thing I noticed was the smell. The hallway had a sour odour, which could be thanks to the dozens of student lockers that lined the walls. A more troubling idea, though, was that the school was infested with monsters. Most had a body odour like dried sweat or wet gym socks. It _could_ be just the Cyclops. I didn't know if their smell could linger this badly.

I wandered the halls, peeking through the little windows on the classroom doors. Meriwether Prep, I realised, was really strange. None of the classrooms had desks or even chairs. I saw a few that looked like the one I'd seen in my dream: whiteboards and posters lining the walls, and beanbags scattered around the floor for students to sit on. There seemed to be examinations going on—at least, I _thought_ that was what it said on the whiteboards—but for the most part, the students seemed to be engaged in playtime while the teachers, dressed so casually in jeans and loud t-shirts that I would have mistaken them for students if I hadn't checked their faces, looked on indulgently. 

It was nothing like my Catholic school in Richmond, with our round tables for student discussion time, teachers in smart suits and strict classroom rules, and rows of spaced out desks when we had tests or exams.

At some point, I heard a series of little explosions coming from a room and I ran for it, imagining a monster attack, but it turned out to be a science lab where the students were not so much carrying out experiments as testing homemade explosives. The teacher, a little lady with a cloud of iron-grey hair, clapped her hands and praised the students who'd managed to blow something up.

Her next class filed in and finally, I caught sight of Percy, still with his Cyclops buddy.

'For your exam today,' their teacher announced, 'you need to succeed in finding a combination of chemicals that will explode.'

I stared at her. What sort of school did Percy go to? Was this really a legitimate federal education system, or had he somehow ended up in a monster training school?

There was a loud _boom_ from Percy and Tyson's lab bench. A cloud of wicked orange fumes emerged from the trash can at their feet. The students nearby started coughing.

'Everyone out!' the teacher yelled, shooing students to the door with a wave of her hands. Once everyone was out, she shut the lab and pulled out a phone to call for a hazardous waste removal squad. Then she turned to Percy and Tyson. 'Amazing work, boys! You're natural chemists, I can tell. Didn't even take you thirty seconds to ace the exam! I believe that's a record.'

_That's it_ , I thought. _She's either a monster or she's nuts._

The bell rang and the hallways filled with students. I tried to keep up with Percy, though I didn't know how to get him alone so I could approach him. I cursed myself for missing my chance this morning. It was hard to navigate the crowded school hall while trying not to bump invisibly into people. Someone opened a locker door straight into my face. While I stepped back to avoid smashing my nose, Percy disappeared.

I resumed peeking into classrooms. I reached a part of the building where instead of walls, the rooms looked out into the hallways through big glass windows. It made me think of an aquarium, with glass exhibits. Percy was in one of those classrooms, sitting on a beanbag chair near the fishbowl window. All the students had little tables on wheels in front of them and I guess they were supposed to be drawing maps—the most lesson-like activity I'd seen all day—but he wasn't paying attention to his. He was holding a notebook in his hands and gazing at something in it, a picture that looked familiar. I pressed my nose up against the window to see what it was. 

With a jolt, I recognised myself, grinning in front of the Lincoln Memorial. It was the photograph I'd emailed him, from my spring break trip.

My heart gave an excited flutter. He'd printed the picture and stuck it into his notebook. I wasn't sure what to think of it. It made me feel a little embarrassed, but kind of pleased as well. I felt extremely glad now that I'd chosen to come find him so we could go to camp together, and I had the sneaking suspicion that it had nothing to do with our pact or Chiron's orders. 

A skinny hand reached over Percy's shoulder and closed over the page in his notebook. A wiry kid with dark, piggy eyes and black hair that was too-carefully mussed up leaned over Percy's rolling table. In one swift motion, he tore my photo out of the notebook.

Percy yelled and slammed his fist on the notebook too late. The bully held up the picture to his snub nose and his jaw dropped. He had an ugly chipped tooth in the centre of his mouth.

'No way, Jackson,' he scoffed. 'Who is that? She is _not_ your—'

Percy's face went a delicate shade of pink. I felt my own grow hot as well. I was certain the bully was about to say _girlfriend_ , and though there was nothing like that between us—he was just my best friend, that was all—the idea was like a jolt of electricity down my spine.

'Give it back!' Percy demanded before the kid could finish. He made a swipe for the photo, but the bully tossed it to someone behind him. A bunch of big, beefy boys flanked him, which probably explained why the kid dared to pick on Percy. His bodyguards laughed and tore my picture into tiny pieces, which they proceeded to spit on and toss at the other kids in the classroom. 

Percy sprang to his feet, his hands twitching. He balled his left hand into a fist, while the right one inched towards his pocket, where I knew he must keep his pen. Percy had a ballpoint pen he called Riptide, that expanded into a sword. I was sure he must be itching to pull it out. I felt like I'd like to give the bullies a good stab with my dagger, too. They made my blood boil, and not just because they'd torn up a picture of me. Watching my friend get picked on was infuriating. 

Percy's expression was hard and cold. I'd seen him look like that before: when he'd face down Ares, the god of war, last year, after Ares had humiliated us and then tricked us into bringing Zeus's lightning bolt to the Underworld. I almost thought Percy might just take out Riptide after all, though it wouldn't be of any use. The sword, like my knife, was celestial bronze. It worked spectacularly on monsters, but mortals could not be harmed by it.

Though there was something about the bully's group of bodyguards. I didn't like that they looked strangely familiar. I felt my spin tingle again, and it wasn't in a good way. I thought there _might_ be something going on with the Mist.

It was definitely hovering over the Cyclops Tyson. I scanned the classroom and found him several beanbags away, diligently drawing out longitudes and latitudes on his map. No one but me seemed to see him for his true self. It was exceedingly strange that he didn't seem to be seeking Percy out, or displaying any sense of ill-will towards him in general. I couldn't understand it. 

The group of bullies pelted Tyson with the spit wads they'd made from my torn-up photo. Their leader's face contorted into a condescending sneer when he saw that Percy wasn't moving to attack. He turned away to taunt Tyson: 'Hey, freak!'

'Leave him alone, Sloan!' Percy stuck himself between Tyson and the bullies. 

The bell rang. Tyson and Percy made for the classroom door immediately. The lead bully—Sloan—laughed after them.

'We're gonna kill you, Jackson,' he snickered.

I didn't know if he meant literally. As Percy emerged from the classroom, I decided to chance calling him.

'Percy!' I hissed. 

He looked around, confused.

Before I could say anything else, the rest of the kids rushed out into the locker area, herded by Sloan and his nasty friends. I backed up to avoid being stampeded by them. Percy was borne away by the wave of students. Once again, I lost sight of him.

I cursed under my breath as I resumed my exercise of searching the classrooms. I heard the sound of explosions, but I figured it was just the crazy science class. Then I passed a lab and realised that the noise was coming from the other end of the building. And they did sound much louder than lab-created chemical reactions. 

I turned and started to run. 

Behind a set of double doors, I could hear screaming echoing around a large, enclosed area, probably a gym. It was mixed with loud bellows and deafening booms. I tried the doors, but they were bolted shut. Behind it, something roared, 'Flesh! Hero flesh for lunch!' 

Something exploded right on the other side, rattling the wall and sending a blast of searing heat under the crack. My feet felt like they'd stepped in an oven.

I was now certain Percy had to be behind those doors. I kicked at them, but they weren't budging. I almost wished Luke, who had the power to unlock almost any door—a talent he'd inherited from his father Hermes, the god of thieves—were here, except it was a fleeting, futile thought. My traitorous friend would probably have let Percy get eaten. 

I needed another way in. To my right, I spotted another door, this one slightly ajar, and I darted through it, hoping it might connect to the locked gym. I found myself in a locker room and it did indeed have a door that might lead to the gym, only that was jammed shut, too. 

Then I heard Percy's voice shout from behind the door, 'Move! Away from the door!'

Even though he probably wasn't talking to me, I obeyed. I launched myself to the other side of the room, hitting the ground in a pile of stinking boys' jeans as the locker room door, along with the entire locker-lined wall around it, exploded into flames.

When the smoke cleared, I saw Percy standing in gym shorts and a psychedelic t-shirt, staring down two wrestler-sized giants and a Cyclops. The giants were dressed in the same clothes as the burly bullies, and I knew now why they had been disconcerting. Something else clicked in my head, too. _Laistrygonians_ , my mind supplied, along with a dim memory of massive, muscular figures trampling down a children's play area the one time I'd been to Ottawa with my dad as a kid. I recalled Leuke's reminisces about Odysseus. The Laistrygonians were the northern giants he'd encountered: cannibals who'd been exiled to a land beyond the reach of the gods. Canada must be their new stomping grounds.

At any rate, they'd clearly come south. I tried to size up the situation quickly. It was three against two, which weren't great odds, but better than Percy against all of them. And I had the advantage of surprise. One of the giants, the one nearest to me, had his back turned. He gripped a deadly-looking bronze ball in his hands. 

I unsheathed my knife. The giant and Cyclops to my left moved first, but neither went for Percy. The Cyclops—Percy's friend Tyson—smashed his fist into the giant's face. The move, clearly in aid of Percy, shocked me enough that I stopped mid-draw, reassessing the situation quickly. The Laistrygonian fell to the ground like a rock. 

His fellow giant hurled the ball in his hands at Tyson. It caught fire as it sailed across the air. 

Tyson went flying into the wall. A crack ran down the cement and the wall burst apart, creating an opening straight onto the main street outside. I thought that was the end of both of them. Indeed, the fallen Laistrygonian sizzled and exploded into ash, but Tyson stirred.

Cyclops were immune to fire, I remembered.

'Well, I'm the last one standing!' the remaining Laistrygonian shouted, turning my attention back to him. 'I'll have enough meat to bring Babycakes a doggy bag.'

He advanced towards Tyson with another ball, but Percy jumped between them. 'Stop! It's me you want!'

'You wish to die first, young hero?' the giant said, amusement in his voice.

Percy's eyes darted frantically towards the locker room. I didn't know why he hadn't drawn Riptide. He must not have had it on him. The idiot, calling attention to himself when he didn't even have a way to fight back! That was Percy—so stupidly brave sometimes, it made me want to smack his head and hug him at the same time.

Of course, I didn't do either. No longer wasting time, I ran up to the unsuspecting giant and shoved the long blade of my dagger straight through his midriff.

'My lunch approaches—' the giant started to say, and then he stiffened mid-sentence. His head drooped forward and his second ball rolled out of his hands. Ball and monster both ignited in green flame. I coughed as the ashes swirled in my face.

I pulled my cap off my head so that Percy could see me. His eyes were wide with shock and confusion, but also a bit of awe.

Someone made a strangled noise to our left. It was that black-haired kid Sloan, the bully that had been picking on Percy earlier—the one who'd ripped out my photo and given it to the Laistrygonians to chew up. I turned to him, adrenaline still coursing heavily through my veins, as he stammered, 'That's the girl—that's the girl—'

He might be mortal, but he'd gone along with the giants who had wanted to kill my best friend. _And_ he'd teased him about me. I drew back my arm and dealt him a good hard punch. He flew back, landing on his butt, and groaned.

'And _you_ , lay off my friend,' I told him with grim satisfaction. 

Then, breathing hard, I looked around the gym. It was a total war zone, from the hole in the wall where Tyson sat, probably with a concussion, to the equipment on fire and the kids who were screaming and crying. On the bright side, at least no one was dead, besides the Laistrygonians.

Percy took a step towards me. 'Annabeth … how did you … how long have you …'

'Pretty much all morning,' I said. 'I've been trying to find a good time to talk to you, but you were never alone.'

Something dawned in his eyes. 'The shadow I saw this morning—that was—oh my _gods_. You were looking in my bedroom _window_?'

I flushed. He'd seen me after all. 'There's no time to explain,' I said quickly, trying to cover up my embarrassment. 'I just didn't want to go to camp without you.'

Before Percy could reply, the gym doors were flung open and a shrill scream rang out. The mortals were crowding around. We had to get out of here. _I_ had to run—they would know I wasn't from this school, which would probably make me the prime suspect for the whole disaster. 

'Meet me outside,' I told Percy. I glanced at the hole in the wall, the quickest way out. Tyson the Cyclops was still sitting there. I didn't know what to make of him. All evidence pointed to him being on Percy's side, but as far as I could see, he was still a Cyclops. Either way, it didn't seem very responsible to leave a monster among the mortals. 'And him,' I pointed, 'you'd better bring him.'

' _What_?' Percy said, which seemed a little rich, seeing as he was the one who had befriended the monster in the first place. But we couldn't have this conversation here in the middle of a group of suspicious adults. I put on my cap and vanished before they could circle us.

'No time! Hurry!' I admonished, and ran out the hole in the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know peppermint cappuccinos are not on Starbucks’ menu (though who knows, maybe they’ll come up with it). I’m going to claim artistic license as I have a theory that Annabeth likes peppermint because it’s [one of the scents that repel spiders](http://www.deadpestz.com/does-peppermint-oil-repel-spiders/). Also, on her coffee order ... although I see her eventually being a black coffee personality, she grows into it over the series, and at this point she's still a cappucino kid. (Percy is totally a mocha drinker, though—graduating from hot chocolate.) No, I didn't spend [way too much time researching the kind of coffee drinker the PJO characters would be](http://dotshiiki.tumblr.com/post/157068193015/because-a-coffee-shopau-was-dancing-around-in-my), why do you ask? ;) 
> 
> Anyway, we're connecting back with canon at last—dialogue at the end are from chapter two of SoM, of course.


	7. We Get A Bad Sunburn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth, Percy, and Tyson catch the Grey Sisters Taxi to camp in time to fight off a pair of bronze bulls.

Sirens screamed past as I waited in a side alley for Percy to join me. This whole journey north had certainly turned into a three-ring circus and I could only hope this last act was the grand finale. I'd simply meant to swing by and pick Percy up, and instead we'd ended up running from giants and acquiring a Cyclops. Trust Percy to find himself a monster friend somehow. 

I still couldn't quite believe Tyson had taken on the Laistrygonians instead of joining them to devour Percy. It went again everything I knew about Cyclopes. It was as though Tyson was some sort of bodyguard.

Could someone, a god, maybe, have sent him to protect Percy? But why a Cyclops, of all things? And which god would go to so much trouble?

My stomach churned. It was possible that Tyson was only biding his time, gaining Percy's trust for now. And there _was_ one deity who was twisted enough to send Percy a duplicitous companion. 

Percy came running out onto the street with Tyson in tow. I darted out and pulled him into the alley. Tyson fixed his eye unnervingly on me. His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. He didn't seem to know how to speak. I realised he was probably a very young Cyclops—maybe he hadn't learned yet. 

How he managed to pass for a student without being able to speak was a mystery, but the Mist had disguised stranger things.

'Where'd you find him?' I asked Percy.

Percy's voice was defensive. 'He's my friend.'

I narrowed my eyes. 'Is he homeless?' It wasn't proof, but if he lived on the streets like most normal Cyclopes, he _might_ just be a random find of Percy's. 

'What does that have to do with anything?' Percy shot back. 'He can hear you, you know. Why don't you ask him?'

'He can talk?'

Tyson finally spoke in a deep, rumbling voice. 'I talk. You are pretty.'

He leaned forward and offered me a smile, flashing rows of stained, crooked teeth. I couldn't help backing away in revulsion.

'Gross!' I muttered.

Percy glared at me. He grabbed Tyson's hands, turning him away from me, and gasped. 'Tyson, your hands aren't even burned!'

Tyson shrugged, but didn't say anything. Though he could obviously speak, his vocabulary seemed pretty limited. 

'Of course not,' I said, shaking my head. He was immune to fire, which put him in a perfect position to fend off the Laistrygonians' flaming attacks. 'I'm surprised the Laistrygonians had the guts to attack you with him around,' I continued, as I ran through the earlier battle in my head. It was unlikely that the giants would have randomly wandered this far south of their homelands; but whoever had sent them obviously hadn't reckoned on a fireproof bodyguard being present. 

Tyson seemed to take my words as an invitation. He reached a grimy hand towards my head. One finger curled around a lock of my hair. I jumped and slapped his hand.

'Annabeth, what are you talking about?' Percy said. 'Laistry—what?'

'Laistrygonians,' I repeated impatiently. 'The monsters in the gym.' I explained their origins, how they were banished beyond the reach of the gods. 'I've never seen them as far south as—' I was about to say _the godly lands_ , but that was kind of abstract. 'New York,' I amended.

'Laistry—I can't even say that,' Percy complained. 'What would you call them in English?'

I rolled my eyes. I thought of the time my dad and I had run into them in Ottawa, and settled on, 'Canadians,' even though that was probably like calling Cyclopes Americans. 

Percy raised his eyebrows, as if to say, _you're kidding—I thought Canadians were supposed to be_ nice.

'Come on,' I said, trying to get back on track. It was late afternoon and we'd wasted enough time. 'We have to get out of here.'

'The police'll be after me,' Percy said. 

'That's the least of our problems.' I wondered how much he knew about what was going on at camp. I knew he had dreams like mine from time to time. 'Have you been having the dreams?'

'The dreams … about Grover?'

This threw me for a loop. Our friend Grover, the satyr who had brought both me and Percy to camp (at different times) and gone with us on our quest last year, was currently off on his life's mission to find the great satyr god Pan. 'Grover? No, what about Grover?'

'He's in Florida,' Percy said. 'He ran into a monster there. I dreamt about it last night—the monster was chasing him, and it caught him in a bridal boutique. I didn't see what happened, though. I woke up just as the monster caught up to him.'

I frowned. Here was one more disturbing event to add to the list. So many things seemed to be happening at once—Thalia's tree, the attacks on camp, Laistrygonians coming south, Percy finding Tyson, and now Grover, too. Either it was a lot of coincidences, or there was some plot brewing. 

'I don't like it,' I said. 

'Why? What were _you_ dreaming about?'

I wasn't entirely sure how to explain. I knew the camp had come under attack and it had something to do with Thalia's tree, but I didn't know how exactly it was connected, nor did I know if anything else had happened in the last three days. I hated trying to explain things without all the facts. Finally, I said, 'Camp. Big trouble at camp.'

To my surprise, Percy picked the ball right up. 'My mom was saying the same thing! But what _kind_ of trouble?'

I stared at him, surprised that his mother would know anything about it. 'I don't know exactly,' I admitted. 'Something's wrong. We have to get there right away.' I told him briefly about my journey up from Virginia, with the multiple monsters who kept trying to stop me. 'Have you had a lot of attacks?'

'None all year,' Percy said, shaking his head. 'Er, until today.'

'None?' I repeated, amazed. I'd assumed there'd have been _some_ incidents, however minor. Even without everything we'd done last year to get on Kronos's bad side, his scent, as the son of Poseidon, _must_ have attracted some monsters. 'But how …' I started to ask, and then the answer came to me. 'Oh.'

Duh. He'd found himself a bodyguard. 

As if answering my question, Tyson raised his hand. But he was looking at Percy with his eyebrow knit and a confused look in his single eye. 

'Canadians in the gym called Percy something … Son of the Sea God?'

Percy's eyes met mine briefly. I frowned. I had assumed Tyson knew exactly who Percy was, especially if he'd been sent to protect, or trick, or trap him or whatever. But the way he looked now, like he couldn't work out what had happened in the gym, as though he were a mortal struggling to see through the Mist … I wondered if Tyson even knew what he _was_. I'd never known the Mist to be powerful enough to shroud a monster from _itself_.

Percy turned to Tyson and started explaining. It was a long, painful process—Tyson took in everything Percy said about the gods very calmly, but acted as though he was listening politely to a story that wasn't answering his real question. At the end of it all, he asked again, 'But you are … Son of the Sea God?'

I ground my teeth. This could take all day. 'We don't have time for this,' I told the boys. 'We'll talk in the taxi.'

'A taxi all the way to camp?' Percy said incredulously. 'You know how much money—'

'Trust me.' I'd only done this twice, but both times, the magical taxi had gotten me to camp really quickly, if not entirely comfortably.

'What about Tyson? We can't just leave him. He'll be in trouble, too.'

'Yeah, we definitely need to take him,' I agreed. I still wanted to get to the bottom of that mystery. Besides, Chiron would know what we should do with him. 'Now come on.'

I led them down the street, a few blocks away from the school. I stopped on a quiet corner and looked into my backpack. I needed a drachma to summon the taxi. As long as I hadn't scattered the lot in Central Park during the roc attack …

'What are you looking for?' Percy said. 

'Found one!' I said triumphantly, showing him the golden drachma. 'Thank the gods!'

'Annabeth, New York taxi drivers won't take that.'

I ignored him and tossed the drachma into the street. ' _Anakoche, harma epitribeios_!' I announced. 

The first time I'd caught the Grey Sisters Taxi, Luke had summoned it on our way back from the Empire State Building on a field trip. Last year, Grover and I had taken it again when we hurried back from La Guardia airport while Percy delivered Zeus's lightning bolt to Mount Olympus. Just as it had on those previous occasions, the insubstantial-looking taxi popped right out of the ground and a head with a mop of stringy grey hair stuck out of the passenger window: Anger, one of the three sisters who manned the cab.

'Three to Camp Half-Blood,' I told her when she asked me for passage. The back door popped open and I indicated to Percy and Tyson to get in.

'Ach!' Anger shook her head violently. 'We don't take _his_ kind!'

I gritted my teeth. 'Extra pay,' I offered, though I had no idea if I had enough to even cover the out-of-metro bonus our passage to Long Island would incur. I'd probably have to get Chiron to spot me when we arrived. 'Three more drachmas on arrival,' I promised Anger.

'Done!'

We got into the taxi. Tyson ended up between Percy and me, which made me feel like I'd eaten a rotten apple. No matter how friendly Tyson might seem, the thought of being in close proximity to a Cyclops still made my stomach churn. It wasn't a great start to the ride, which was somewhat of a roller-coaster to begin with. The Grey Sisters—Anger, Tempest, and Wasp—were three wise women who had but a single tooth and a single eye amongst them. I think they'd made some deal to get wisdom or knowledge or something like that, I wasn't sure. They had normal facial structures, but they had a time-share going on with the actual appendages. I didn't know when they'd ended up with their taxi gig, but if you could put up with the erratic driving, they could get you anywhere you wanted in the Greater New York region.

Percy and Tyson looked pretty much the way I had the first time I'd gotten in the Grey Sisters Taxi—a mixture of incredulity and nausea. Tyson moaned and clutched his stomach while Percy looked at me with disbelief when I explained about the eye situation. His expression clearly said, _Are you completely out of your mind?_

'Hey, Grey Sisters Taxi is the fastest way to camp,' I said.

'Then why didn't you take it from Virginia?' he shot back.

I rolled my eyes. I knew Percy was actually pretty smart, but a lot of the time he acted like he couldn't be bothered to use his brains for simple logic. 'That's outside their service area. They only serve Greater New York and surrounding communities.' 

The ride was wilder than usual, I had to admit. The sisters were having an intense argument as we trundled downtown. We swerved all over the bridge that connected Manhattan to Long Island. I had to grab tightly to the handhold in the door to keep from being flung over Tyson's lap.

'Uh, if anybody's interested, we're going to die!' Percy said.

I told him not to worry, although I probably didn't sound terribly convincing, given that we looked like we were going to launch off the bridge straight into the East River. 'The Grey Sisters know what they're doing. They're really very wise.'

'Yes, wise!' Anger cut in. 'We know things!'

Wasp backed her up. 'Every street in Manhattan! The capital of Nepal!'

_Kathmandu_ , I thought automatically, and grinned to myself. The temples there were said to be a sight worth seeing.

'The location you seek!' Tempest said, out of the blue.

'Be quiet!' Anger and Wasp screeched in unison. 'Be quiet! He didn't even ask yet!'

Percy latched on to this with surprisingly tenacity. When they refused to tell him what Tempest had meant, he became fixated on it, even holding their eye hostage when they dropped it by his feet, until they told him what location they were talking about. I really didn't understand him sometimes. He'd gone from being terrified of their daredevil driving to practically ensuring that they'd kill us in a crash.

'I'll open the window and throw the eye into oncoming traffic,' he threatened, the _idiot_.

'No! Too dangerous!' cried all three sisters, most ironically.

'I'm rolling down the window.'

'Wait! Thirty, thirty-one, seventy-five, twelve!'

Percy looked at me, mystified. 'What do you mean?' he demanded. 'That makes no sense!'

Anger repeated the meaningless string of numbers. Best guess, it was a phone number to call, or a post code. I'd heard that in some countries, they used more numbers and no letters. I didn't really care either way. I couldn't understand why it was so important to Percy. It wasn't as though he'd set out to ask them for a location in the first place.

'Percy, give them the eye _now_!' I yelled at him.

Finally, Percy tossed the eye to Wasp. She popped it into her eye socket and immediately slammed the brake. My face hit the head rest so hard, I thought I might have broken my nose. Next to me, Tyson released a loud, foul-smelling burp. We were at the base of Half-Blood Hill. At the crest, under Thalia's tree, a group of campers formed a defensive ring. Bounding up the hill towards them were a pair of blindingly bright bronze bulls.

Percy leaned between the drivers' seats, still demanding information from the Grey Sisters. I punched his shoulder. 'No time! We have to get out _now_!'

He looked up and the colour drained from his face when he saw what I did: flames erupting from the mouths of the bulls as they charged across the hill.

'Ahhhh!' Wasp screamed.

'What is it? What is it?' Anger and Tempest yelled. 'Give me the eye!'

Percy, Tyson, and I spilled out of the taxi. Wasp floored the accelerator before we'd even closed the door behind us, clearly anxious to get away from the fire-breathing bulls. The campers on the hill had scattered in the face of the fire and the bulls were running easily behind Thalia's pine, as though the magical borders that were supposed to keep monster out didn't even exist. They were mammoth-sized, looking terrifyingly huge even from this distance, and they made loud clinking, grinding noises like their joints were made of metal. 

_Colchis bulls_ , I thought in dismay. Crafted by Hephaestus himself for King Aeetes in the days of Jason and the Argonauts. 'Oh man.' In my head I heard Ethel saying, _boy, those things can burn if you're not careful._

'Border patrol, to me!' shouted a girl on the hill. She raised her spear high in the air. A few of the campers ran to her, but most of them were getting chased down by the bulls. 

'It's Clarisse—come on, we have to help her.'

Percy uncapped his pen and it elongated into his sword, Riptide. He turned to Tyson. 'Stay here,' he told him. 'I don't want you taking any more chances.'

I gave him an incredulous look. We were facing fire-breathing bulls and he wanted the one fire-immune guy we had to stay back? 'No! We need him.'

'He's mortal!' Percy said, as though I were the crazy one. 'He got lucky with the dodgeballs but he can't—'

It was hard to believe how much Percy had been duped by the Mist. I decided to focus on the main problem. 'Percy, do you know what those are up there? The Colchis bulls, made by Hephaestus himself. We can't fight them without Medea's Sunscreen SPF 50,000. We'll get burned to a crisp!'

Although I knew I didn't have it, I couldn't help double-checking my backpack, in the vain hope that I'd somehow ended up tossing it in without realising it. Of course it wasn't there—I could see myself in my room the morning I'd left, glancing at the jar on my nightstand and figuring I wouldn't need it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 'Why didn't I bring it?'

Now we were facing bulls like blazing sun, which would give you third degree burns on contact, first and second degree depending on how close you got to it, and at best a severe sunburn if you approached it without sunscreen. 

'I'm _not_ going to let Tyson get fried,' Percy insisted. Deaf to my protests, he told Tyson to stay back again. 'I'm going in.' He charged up the hill towards Clarisse.

'Phalanx formation!' Clarisse was screaming, trying to get her patrol to lock shields and form a wall against the raging bulls. It might have worked if her full team had been operational. As it was, four of the campers were distracted by the fact that their helmets had been set on fire. Percy sprinted towards where Clarisse and her five campers were holding the line against one bull. I headed for the other, which was closing in on the four campers with flaming heads.

'Hey!' I yelled at it. 'You stupid cow, you're just full of hot air!'

The bull turned and pawed at the ground with one bronze hoof. Smoke billowed from his nostrils. I'd succeeded at diverting its attention from the other campers, but now it was focused on me. Its silver horn flashed in the sunlight as it charged towards me, ruby eyes glinting with malice. I put on my cap and vanished as I ran, careful to keep what I thought was an appropriate distance. I wasn't sure if I would suffer the burns if I were invisible, but I preferred not to find out the hard way. I could feel the scorching heat emanating from the monster as it stampeded past me, confused. It whirled around and spewed out a frustrated ring of fire, torching the grass within a five-foot radius. 

I ran for the other side of the hill and pulled off my cap. 'Right here, stupid!'

The bull didn't care to play this time. It had found easier prey. Quick as lightning, it turned and headed for Clarisse's unguarded side—a flank she wouldn't have needed to guard ordinarily since it was behind the magical barrier. The bull only slowed briefly, though, and carried on right through. While the first bull smashed up against the phalanx formation, sending a wall of fire at Clarisse and her patrol, the second one came up behind and would have gored her with its silver horn and fried her with its breath if Percy hadn't managed to jump in and yank her out of the way by her armour straps.

Clarisse screamed at him. 

'Distract them!' I yelled to the other campers, although there were only about three or four who were still on their feet. Half the patrol had fallen, clutching their burnt arms or rolling around to put out their flaming armour. 'Spread out, keep them from congregating!'

Tyson, against Percy's orders, came lumbering up the hill. 'Help Percy!' I yelled at him. Beyond the barrier, Percy was facing down one bull on his own. I thought he'd managed to injure it with his sword, but it was still on its feet. The other bull was rampaging lower down the hill. I cried out and flailed my arms, trying to get its attention, but it focused on Percy, too.

Percy was down. He'd fallen on his face near Thalia's tree. Clarisse leapt over him and engaged the first bull, but he wasn't going to get up in time to meet the second one. 

I was too far away; I had no chance of racing the bull to Percy. The remaining campers were spread out as well. There was only Tyson, making his way up the hill towards Percy. 

'Tyson, help him!' I cried. 

Tyson came up against the barrier and stopped. 'Can't—get—through!'

It seemed unthinkable that the barrier would fail under the onslaught of the bulls yet hold against a helpful monster. There was no time to wonder about it, though. I'd never summoned a monster through the barrier before, but I knew it could be done.

'I, Annabeth Chase, give you permission to enter camp!' I yelled. 

The entire hill shook as a giant fist had grabbed it. Tyson leapt through the barrier and lunged in front of Percy. 

And then the bull charging towards them let loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always when I dovetail back into canon that I remember how hard it is to reconcile the dialogue! Writing canon scenes is ironically harder than the missing moments. Recognisable dialogue is, of course, straight from _SoM_.


	8. I Say Goodbye To My Mentor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiron extracts a promise from Annabeth before he leaves Camp Half-Blood.

The firestorm that surrounded Tyson was like a volcanic eruption. 

The bull held it for at least thirty seconds before it stopped to draw another breath. In the lull before it could deliver its second onslaught, Tyson sucker-punched the beast right in the nose, the same way I'd knocked out the bully at Meriwether Prep. The bull fell just as Sloan had, waving its legs in the air like an overturned tortoise. Its face had been completely smashed in. 

I ran to Percy. Tyson had protected him from the full severity of the blast, so he was thankfully not a charred pile of ashes, but he'd suffered a bad burn nonetheless. His skin was raw and pink and the smell of burning hair hung off him. He crawled towards Tyson on his hands and knees, dragging his left leg. The ankle turned out at an awkward angle.

I uncapped my flask of nectar and handed it to him. Nectar could make you burn up from the inside if you drank it under ordinary circumstances, but with injuries this bad, it would be restorative instead. Percy sipped at it and the twisted expression of pain on his face subsided. 

'Thanks,' he said. 'The other bull?'

Clarisse had won that fight. She'd chased the bull back down the hill and pinned its leg with her spear. Now, leaving the bull revolving uselessly around the shaft, she came stomping up the hill towards us. Her hair was smoking and her eyes were furious. 

'You ruin _everything_! I had it under control!'

Clarisse was the daughter of Ares. She'd never liked Percy, and true to form for a child of the war god, she liked people interfering in her fights even less. I sighed. 'Good to see you too, Clarisse.'

She let out a cry of frustration. 'Don't ever, _ever_ try saving me again!'

'Clarisse, you've got wounded campers,' I reminded her, pointing around the hill at the fallen patrol members. Most of the fires had been put out, but many of the demigods were groaning where they had collapsed. 

Clarisse was the head counsellor for her cabin, same as me. Even though she might want to pick a fight with us, she'd prioritise taking care of the injured. She went off, promising to continue this later. 

Percy, Tyson, and I looked at each other. 

'You didn't die,' Percy said to Tyson, sounding awed and grateful at the same time.

'I am sorry,' Tyson said in his slow, deep voice. 'Came to help. Disobeyed you.'

'My fault,' I interrupted quickly. 'I had no choice. I had to let Tyson cross the boundary line to save you. Otherwise—' I gulped. 'Otherwise you would've died.' The thought made me shudder as though I'd gone from almost being scorched to diving into an ice bath.

' _Let_ him cross the boundary line? But …' He looked back at Tyson and for the first time, I realised that when Percy looked at his friend, he seemed to stare only at Tyson's chin. It wasn't that the Mist was obscuring Tyson's true appearance to Percy—it was tricking him into not looking at all.

'Percy, have you ever looked at Tyson closely? I mean … in the face. Ignore the Mist, and _really_ look at him.'

Slowly, Percy raised his eyes. His gaze locked on the single brown eye at the centre of Tyson's forehead and his jaw dropped.

'Tyson, you're a …'

Tyson's lip wobbled and he began to cry, tears spilling out of his eye and splitting into two streams down his chubby cheeks.

'Cyclops. A baby, by the looks of him.' Maybe that explained his trouble with the barrier. 'Probably why he couldn't get past the boundary line as easily as the bulls,' I mused. He wasn't fully grown yet, which might also explain why he wasn't as vicious as your typical wild street Cyclops. 'Tyson's one of the homeless orphans,' I ventured. From the look on Tyson's face, I figured I'd gotten that right. 

'One of the what?' Percy asked. 

'They're in almost all the big cities.' _Like Brooklyn_ , I thought with a grimace. 'They're … _mistakes_ , Percy. Children of nature spirits and gods … Well, one god in particular, usually,' I amended, with a wry smile at the irony. 'And they don't always come out right. No one wants them. They get tossed aside. They grow up wild on the streets. I don't know how this one found you, but he obviously likes you. We should take him to Chiron, let him decide what to do.' My stomach turned over lazily as I thought about bringing him into the heart of camp. I'd actually let a monster—a Cyclops, the kind I had a _really_ bad experience with, no less—into my home and I would surely have to answer for it. Chiron would probably understand once I explained why, but I was more worried about what the camp director, Mr D, would say.

'But the fire,' Percy said, still looking confused. 'How—'

'He's a Cyclops.' Sometimes I wished he'd just do his reading on Greek mythology. 'They work the forges of the gods. They _have_ to be immune to fire. That's what I was trying to tell you.'

Percy shook his head, as though trying to make sense of it all. While he turned all the information over in his head, Clarisse came marching back to us. Her temper had cooled off after assessing the injuries of her wounded border patrol.

'Jackson,' she said crisply, 'if you can stand, get up. We need to carry the wounded back to the Big House, let Tantalus know what's happened.'

Percy and I exchanged a look.

'Tantalus?' he said.

'The activities director,' Clarisse said. 

An awful feeling curled around my heart like an icy tendril. 

'Chiron is the activities director,' Percy said. 'And where's Argus? He's head of security. He should be here.'

Somehow I knew what Clarisse was going to say before she said it, and it felt like the bottom had dropped out of my stomach.

'Argus got fired. You two have been gone too long. Things are changing.' Although she didn't say anything about Chiron, we read between the lines.

'But Chiron … He's trained kids to fight monsters for over three thousand years. He can't just be _gone_ ,' Percy insisted. 'What happened?'

' _That_ happened.' Clarisse pointed to Thalia's tree.

It was just as I had seen in my dream. The leaves—whatever was left of them—were dried and yellow, curling at the ends with wisps of smoke rising from them. The ones on the bottom branches had already fallen off into a decomposing pile of pine needles at the base of the tree. Halfway up the trunk, where the hooded figure in my dream had stuck his syringe, was a puncture mark. Green sap the colour of the poisonous injection seeped out of it.

I blinked tears out of my eyes. Seeing the damage first-hand, actually watching Thalia's tree withering away before my own eyes—it made me feel like someone had punctured _my_ chest and shoved poison into my heart. My limbs felt numb as I followed Clarisse over to the group of wounded campers. 

'Is Chiron—he's really gone?' I asked Clarisse when I found my voice again.

Clarisse scowled. 'He's packing. Mr D fired him yesterday.'

Those of us who were still in shape to walk helped to carry the ones who couldn't on stretchers down to the Big House, where the infirmary was. This was more difficult than it sounded. Tyson, although strong enough to carry the ends of four stretchers at once, kept pausing every time he saw something that fascinated him.

'Whasthat!' he cried, dropping his end of the stretchers. A group of Apollo campers came up and took over, doing a double-take when they looked at Tyson properly. Clarisse led them into the infirmary. 

I gave Tyson an irritated look while Percy patiently explained everything from the Pegasi stables to the toilets. 

'Are you done?' I said at last after he'd explained the cabin arrangements. 'I want to find Chiron before he leaves.'

I dragged Percy to the Big House. Tyson, of course, followed, which annoyed me, even though I knew we had to bring him. I could hear Chiron's lounge music playing when we entered the hallway. I didn't really understand his fondness for the genre—it just sounded like a lot of wailing instruments to me—but I would have listened to it for hours on end if it meant that Chiron would be staying. 

The door to Chiron's apartment was propped open by a saddlebag. Another one was on his desk, unzipped as he piled books and clothes into it. My throat seized up at the sight of him.

Tyson stood stock still, taking in Chiron's lower white stallion half, to which his human torso was seamlessly fused. 'Pony!'

Chiron turned with a look of indignation in his eyes. 'I beg your pardon?'

I threw my arms around his waist. Chiron hugged me back and my eyes grew misty again. 

'Chiron, what's happening?' I asked, gesturing to his packing. 'You're not … leaving?'

'Hello, child,' Chiron said gently, patting the top of my head. He released me and extended his hand to Percy. 'And Percy, my goodness. You've grown over the year!'

Percy shook his proffered hand. When he spoke, he sounded like he had a lump in his throat. 'Clarisse said you were … you were …'

'Fired,' Chiron said grimly. He scratched his scraggly brown beard. 'Ah, well, someone had to take the blame. Lord Zeus was most upset. The tree he'd created from the spirit of his daughter, poisoned! Mr D had to punish someone.' Although he looked resigned, there was a note of resentment in his voice.

'Besides himself, you mean,' Percy said hotly.

'But this is crazy!' I'd seen the hooded figure in my dream,, and it definitely wasn't Chiron. Not to mention, Chiron would never have done something like this in a million years. His entire existence was based on training and protecting heroes. 'Chiron, you couldn't have had anything to do with poisoning Thalia's tree!' I insisted.

'Nevertheless, some in Olympus do not trust me, under the circumstances.'

'What circumstances?' Percy said.

Chiron didn't answer. His face grew dark and closed, and I had the feeling I knew what he meant. Although Zeus hadn't believed Percy last year when he'd told the gods Kronos was rising, this whole business reeked of the Lord of the Titans's plotting. At least some of the gods had to suspect Kronos was behind it, and despite Chiron's dedication to the camp, the fact remained that he was a son of Kronos.

Which was really stupid. I mean, half the Olympians were the children of Kronos as well. But most of the gods had never really been known for their wisdom (my mother excepted, of course). Chiron just made the most convenient scapegoat.

Tyson broke the silence—or at least the Frank Sinatra music. 'Pony?' he repeated, his hand twitching like he wanted to pat Chiron.

Chiron's eyes examined Tyson carefully. 'My dear young Cyclops,' he said disdainfully, 'I am a _centaur_.'

I bit my lip, thinking he would ask now what Tyson was doing here, but Percy jumped in.

'Chiron, what about the tree?' he asked. 'What happened?'

Chiron sighed. 'The poison used on Thalia's pine is something from the Underworld, Percy. Some venom even I have never seen. It must have come from a monster quite deep in the pits of Tartarus.'

I shivered, wondering once again who would have dared to retrieve such a thing. My mind flitted to Luke. Percy had told us he'd left to serve Kronos, and I had no reason not to believe it, but … it was Thalia. The night she'd died—it was the only time I'd ever seen Luke cry. And I remembered the year after we'd first arrived at camp, when we'd gone to the tree nearly everyday. Whatever Luke had become, whatever he'd done in the years since, I knew he'd really cared about Thalia.

While Percy argued that it had to be Luke, carrying out Kronos's bidding, my mind rebelled against the idea. There had to be someone else. Kronos had to have more than one servant. 

Chiron inclined his head. 'Perhaps, but I fear I am being held responsible because I did not prevent it and I cannot cure it. The tree has only a few weeks of life left unless …'

'Unless what?' I said. 

'No.' Chiron looked away, as though he wished he hadn't brought up the subject. 'A foolish thought.' He murmured about how the camp itself—its life, its magic—was dying and only strong magical intervention could reverse the damage. He looked a little wistful. 'It was lost centuries ago.'

'What _is_ it? We'll go find it!' Percy said.

A fleeting thought flickered through my mind as I considered what Chiron said. A source of magic that could heal a tree. My mind landed on Leuke, the naiad-turned-poplar-turned-dryad. What if … I looked to Chiron, hoping I might see the confirmation in his eyes. But they were bleak and helpless. If he was indeed thinking of the Golden Fleece, he truly believed it was lost beyond reach.

Chiron turned off his music and snapped his saddlebag shut. He bent his front legs so that he was eye-level to Percy. His hand rested on Percy's shoulder. 'Percy,' he said gravely, 'you must promise me that you will _not_ act rashly. I told your mother I did not want you to come here at all this summer. It's much too dangerous. But now that you are here, _stay_ here. Train hard. Learn to fight. But do not leave.'

'Why? I want to do something!' Percy protested. I understood his agitation. It felt like too much to ask, to stay put and train like everything was normal when the camp was effectively crumbling all around us. 'I can't just let the borders fail. The whole camp will be—'

'Overrun by monsters—yes, I fear so. But you must not let yourself be baited into hasty action! This could be a trap of the Titan Lord. Remember last summer! He almost took your life.'

The words gave me pause. Chiron was right, of course. If Kronos was indeed behind the poisoning of Thalia's tree—and I had no doubt he was—there was probably a deeper reason beyond weakening our camp. Kronos was the master of twisted plots: deceptions within deceptions, agendas hidden beneath surface intentions. His strategies were nearly impossible to discern.

Chiron turned to me. His hand touched my cheek, gently wiping away a tear I hadn't felt trickle down. 'Stay with Percy, child. Keep him safe. The prophecy—remember it!'

I nodded shakily. There were many prophecies—every camper who went on a quest got one from the mummified Oracle of Delphi in the attic—but I knew exactly which one he was referring to. Many years ago, a prophecy had been issued predicting that a half-blood child of the Big Three gods—Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades—would turn sixteen and make a choice that could potentially destroy Olympus. Percy was the only living demigod who fit that bill, and aside from Kronos, there were plenty of gods who would also be happy to do away with him in an attempt to thwart the prophecy. He was still three years from his sixteenth birthday. We had to keep him safe until then. 

'I—I will,' I said.

'Um … would this be the super-dangerous prophecy that has me in it, but the gods have forbidden you to tell me about?'

Both Chiron and I avoided looking at him. Percy frowned and muttered, 'Right, just checking.' 

I looked at Chiron's concerned face and wondered yet again how anyone could suspect him of sabotaging the camp and endangering the heroes to whom he had dedicated his life to protect.

A horrifying thought suddenly crossed my mind. 'Chiron, you told me the gods made you immortal only so long as you were needed to train heroes. If they dismiss you from camp—'

Chiron interrupted me, side-stepping my question completely. 'Swear you will do your best to keep Percy from danger. Swear upon the River Styx.'

It was the most serious oath anyone could make. An oath on the Styx was a binding promise on pain of eternal torment. Asking me to take on the role of Percy's protector …

In a way, maybe it _was_ an answer to my question. Chiron needed to make sure someone could continue to watch over Percy if he no longer existed to do so.

My vision blurred. I could barely choke out the words. 'I swear it upon the River Styx.'

Thunder shook the Big House, sealing my oath.

'Very well,' Chiron said, and I fought desperately to hold back my tears. Wild sobs erupted from me as Chiron mused about his immediate plans. He patted my shoulder, but that only made me lose control. Tears streamed down my cheeks as Chiron left us with a final warning to Percy not to let down his guard. 

Percy patted my arm awkwardly, murmuring that it was going to be all right, but I was inconsolable. As the sound of Chiron's hooves echoed down the hallway outside, I buried my head in my hands and sobbed.


	9. We Get A New Prison Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiron's replacement introduces himself and a new activity, while Annabeth and Clarisse join forces to keep up the camp's protections.

Dinnertime at camp was usually loud and boisterous, as any gathering of a hundred teenagers involving food was wont to be. We'd sit at our cabin tables—long stone benches laid out in rows, six on each side of a central brazier—and there was always plenty of laughter and food-flinging, sometimes between the tables as well.

Given the trouble plaguing the camp, however, the mood in the mess hall this evening was funereal. Conversations went on in low, serious voices, and laughter was far from all of our minds.

We filed in as always, each cabin lined up according to seniority (I led cabin six—although Anita Hawthorne was the oldest of Athena's children, she'd gladly ceded the head counsellor position to me since I'd been at camp longer and completed a quest last year) but there was no joking around. The nymphs served us the usual camp fare: barbecued meats, fruit, and cheese. We took our plates solemnly to the fire that burned steadily in the bronze brazier at the centre of the pavilion to make our offerings to the gods. No one spoke, but I could see the fervent prayers in my siblings' expressions: _please help us, Athena_.

All the other tables were just as downcast. Even the Hermes campers, typically the biggest pranksters, who were known to start food fights every other meal, was completely subdued. They were led by Travis Stoll, who must have taken over as head counsellor for cabin eleven. My stomach twisted uncomfortably when I realised this.

Last year, that position had been held by Luke.

Percy was the last to enter the pavilion, Tyson still following on his heels like an overgrown puppy. Heads turned as they passed. Muttering broke out among the campers when they noticed Tyson's single eye. 

My siblings exchanged incredulous looks.

'Is he serious?' Arthur Doolin said. 'A Cyclops at camp?'

'The barrier really _is_ useless now, isn't it?' Malcolm Pace lamented.

I bit my lip and decided maybe now wasn't the best time to admit that _I_ was responsible for letting Tyson in. 

Percy glared at all the muttering campers as he headed for his table. As the only child of Poseidon, he always had to eat alone. I wasn't sure what the protocol was for Tyson. Sure, cabin three had plenty of room, but the seating arrangements were based more on tradition than practicality.

The pair of them stopped at the head table, summoned by Mr D. Our camp director was actually a god—the youngest Olympian, Dionysus. Although he was meant to be in charge, Chiron was the one who took care of the day-to-day running of activities, organising of schedules, and training of heroes. I didn't know if Mr D actually cared about the camp. The story was, he'd only been put in charge as a punishment, to dry out after a forbidden fling with a wood nymph Zeus had had his eye on. 

Yes, the gods are flighty that way. 

With Chiron gone now, I didn't know how Mr D was going to manage everything. Then I remembered what Clarisse had said about a new activities director. 

I looked to Mr D's left, in the place Chiron usually occupied, and got my first glimpse of his replacement.

He was thin and insubstantial-looking, like a frail skeleton that might be blown apart by even the slightest gust of wind. He was dressed in orange like the rest of us, but I realised with a jolt that it wasn't a camp t-shirt. Instead, he was clad in a jumpsuit like the kind inmates in a prison wear. Even though I was sure I'd never met him before, I thought he looked familiar. He reached for the goblet in front of him, which was filled with a dark, foamy liquid, but it evaded his hands as though running down the table on invisible feet. As I watched him repeat the same ritual with his plate of food, the name clicked in my head. Clarisse had mentioned it earlier, but only now did I recognise the man, Tantalus. I _had_ seen him before, last year, on my excursion to the Underworld. He was—well, had been—a wraith in the Fields of Punishment, sentenced to eternal torture by temptation. He was supposed to be standing under a tree filled with luscious fruit, forever taunted by the food he would never be able to reach. I couldn't recall what his crime had been, but it must have been something bad to deserve such a cruel punishment. 

What was someone like that doing as our new activities director?

'When did he get here?' I asked Malcolm.

'Tantalus?' Malcolm said. 'He just appeared at breakfast this morning. Mr D told us Chiron was fired and Tantalus was taking his place, and that—that things were going to change now.'

I didn't like the ominous sound of that. It occurred to me that Mr D would be perfectly happy if camp was overrun—he couldn't be sentenced to a punishment that no longer existed, after all.

'It hasn't stopped the attacks,' Anita said darkly. 'It's been three days since the first one and the barrier's getting weaker each day.' She glanced at the high table, where Tyson was now standing next to Tantalus. Percy had been waved on to his solitary table, where he was now staring glumly at his plate. 'We're even taking in monsters now? I swear, if this continues … I'd be better off living at home after all.'

I stared guiltily at my food. 'Um, about that,' I said. 'I actually—'

One of the satyrs at the high table blew into a conch horn, calling a halt to all conversation. Tantalus stood, still chasing his silverware around the table with one hand, and addressed us. For some reason, his other hand was clamped around Tyson's beefy bicep, keeping the Cyclops firmly in view. 

Mr D and some of the satyrs clapped after Tantalus introduced himself, but the rest of us only stared at him, wide-eyed. Tantalus didn't seem fazed by the lukewarm welcome. 'Changes!' he announced gleefully. 'We are reinstituting …' he paused for effect, 'the chariot races!'

This got a bigger response. Before our tradition of capture the flag games had begun, the camp's main competition had been chariot racing—at least until it had been deemed too dangerous. I had to admit, the idea was quite exciting. The chariot had been an invention of my mother's in one of her rare co-operative ventures with Poseidon. 

The reactions of the other campers were mixed. Next to us, the Demeter table seemed dismayed. Someone at the Ares table opposite pumped his fist in the air. Apollo table started murmuring about the previous death toll.

'Now I know that these races were discontinued some years ago due to, ah, technical problems—'

'Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations!' Will Solace interjected. He was the best medic we had at camp, and he looked quite exhausted, probably from constantly having to patch up campers the past week. I guessed he wasn't eager for more risky activities that might add to his workload.

'Bring it on,' I heard someone from the Ares table murmur.

'Yes, yes!' Tantalus sounded unperturbed by this statistic. 'But I know that you will all join me in welcoming the return of this camp tradition.' He outlined the prizes that awaited the winners—golden laurels to be won each month, with the first race to be held in three days. 'We will release you from most of your regular activities to prepare your chariots and choose your horses.' I frowned at this, wondering if that meant capture the flag would be off in favour of this new competition. And then he offered the clincher: 'The victorious team's cabin will have no chores for the month in which they win.'

This swayed most of the reluctant campers. The prospect of avoiding the most hated duties—kitchen patrol, toilet cleaning, mucking the stables—was enough to outweigh the risks of the race. The entire Ares table, already enthusiastic about the chance to pulverise other campers in a deadly horse race, practically exploded in cheers. 

I guess Tantalus knew something about dangling sweet rewards in front of people.

Clarisse got up amidst her cheering siblings. I thought she was going to boast about Ares's chances of winning. Instead, she objected: 'But sir, what about patrol duty?'

My mouth fell open in surprise. Clarisse loved any chance she could get to prove her might. It wasn't like her to turn down a challenge.

Also, I couldn't believe she'd brought up the issue that _I_ should have.

'I mean,' Clarisse continued, 'if we drop everything to ready our chariots—'

Tantalus interrupted her. 'Ah, the hero of the day. Brave Clarisse, who single-handedly bested the bronze bulls!'

Clarisse looked taken-aback. In another uncharacteristic move, she blushed and stammered, 'Um, I didn't—'

'And modest, too,' Tantalus noted, which was probably the last adjective I'd have ever used to describe Clarisse. 'Not to worry, my dear! This is a summer camp. We are here to enjoy ourselves, yes?'

'But the tree—'

Mark Harrison and Martin Nemean yanked Clarisse back down onto her bench, glaring. I couldn't hear what they said to her, but Clarisse crossed her arms and started to argue with them. 

'And now, before we proceed to the campfire and singalong, one slight housekeeping issue.' Tantalus narrowed his eyes and turned to look at Percy. His head then swivelled to my table, where his sunken eyes bore straight into me. 'Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase have seen fit, for some reason, to bring _this_ here.' He let go of Tyson and waved his hand in front of the Cyclops's face.

All my siblings stared at me with open mouths. I raised my hands defensively. 'He took out the bronze bulls,' I said quickly. 'We needed his help! I thought Chiron would know what to do after, but …'

Tantalus wasn't done with his speech. He summarised the nature of Cyclopes well enough: murderous, savage, and stupid. Many of the campers nodded along with his assessment, even when he suggested hunting Tyson with torches and sticks (did he not realise Cyclopes were fire-proof?) I agreed in principle, but I had to admit in this case it was probably overkill. Although I was still wary of Tyson, he looked more like an overgrown toddler who was about to cry than a bloodthirsty monster ready to go on a rampage. 

Of course, he was only a baby now. There was still time for him to grow into a fully-fledged monster. I wasn't sure I wanted him to hang around until then.

I glanced over at Percy. He was staring at Tantalus with a look of utter loathing on his face, even as Tantalus acknowledged that Tyson could stay, although the logistics definitely posed a problem. I could understand Percy's anger if Tyson was a person, with normal feelings. The way Tantalus spoke _was_ pretty hurtful. But monsters were different. They weren't like us.

It was just like Percy to project human emotions on monsters, though, and feel sorry for them. He could be way too nice sometimes. 

And then a flash of bright green illuminated Tyson's head. I'd seen the sign, a glowing green trident, only once before. It had hung over Percy's head last year when his father had claimed him. Now, I stared in shock along with the other campers as the unthinkable happened: a Cyclops was claimed like a regular camper. 

'Well, I think we know where to out the beast now,' Tantalus snickered. 'By the gods, I can see the family resemblance!'

Nervous laughter broke out around the pavilion. I didn't join in. Although I didn't care much what Tantalus said about Tyson, this was a dig at Percy, and I didn't appreciate anyone making fun of my friends. 

Tantalus shooed us along to the campfire, although no one was in the mood for singing. The magical flames, which reflected the emotions of the group, spluttered and fizzled, barely able to get going. The Apollo campers tried to start a chorus of _All Around The Dragon's Den_ , but our voices were lacklustre. We called it a night fifteen minutes in. 

Clarisse pulled me aside as I was heading back to my cabin. 

'We need to talk,' she said grimly. She went round the various cabins until there was a small group of us—me, Beckendorf from Hephaestus, Lee Fletcher from Apollo, and Silena Beauregard from Aphrodite. 

'What's going on, Clarisse?' Lee asked.

'Border patrol,' she said. 'We can't stop. The tree's getting worse every day, and that means more attacks.'

We all exchanged looks. Clarisse was right, of course, but this was such a distinctly unusual occurrence that we were all stunned.

'Well?' Clarisse demanded. 'Don't you agree?'

'Yes, of course,' I said hurriedly. 'I just didn't expect—never mind.' Seeing Clarisse's narrowed eyes, I decided not to voice what we were all thinking. 'What have you guys been doing?'

'Chiron set up the border patrol,' Beckendorf said. 'He had a schedule and everything, but now he's gone and I don't think Tantalus is going to keep up with it.'

Clarisse snorted. 'You think?'

'We can organised it ourselves, then,' I said. 'The senior counsellors can lead. Who are the camp leaders this year?'

'We don't know,' Lee said. 'Chiron would have had the meeting tomorrow, to assign leaders before arrivals day on Monday, but that's also the chariot race day now. From what he said tonight, I don't think Tantalus or Mr D are going to care about stuff like arrivals day or activity schedules.'

'Well, we'll get all the senior counsellors together, then,' I said. 'There's the four of us, and, er,' I turned to Silena, 'I supposed you're Aphrodite's head counsellor now?'

Silena had been quiet throughout this exchange. I wasn't sure why Clarisse had included her; as far as I knew, they weren't friends. Plus, the Aphrodite girls were hardly known for their fighting abilities. Then I remembered what I'd seen in my dream. Silena was the one who had flown a Pegasus at the attacking dragon and taken it down with a well-aimed purse. I decided I might have to revise my impression of her. 

'Yes,' she said softly, twisting a bracelet on her wrist nervously. 'I took over from Amy when she left.'

'Okay, well, we just need Travis and Castor, and … um, who's Demeter cabin's counsellor now?'

The others' faces grew sad. I guessed they were also thinking of Darinia, who'd been the previous counsellor, and one of our camp leaders last year. And her counterpart … well, I didn't want to think about him now.

'Katie Gardner,' Lee said.

'Katie, then. Oh, and Percy.' He was the default head of cabin three, since it had only one camper. Well, it _had_ had only one. I tried not to think too much about that either. 'Each of us will get as many volunteers as we can who are willing to go behind Tantalus's back and I'll—er, _we'll_ organise a schedule.' I'd almost fallen into the role of leader, but I caught myself. This was Clarisse's idea, even if I was the best at organising stuff.

'You can do that stuff,' Clarisse said. 'Just give me the roster.' She glanced towards the hill, where the bulls we'd fought earlier were still lying smashed up near Thalia's tree. 'And a new spear,' she muttered. She nodded to us and stalked off in the direction of the armoury, probably to find herself a new weapon. 

Lee offered to speak with Katie and Travis, and Silena said she'd talk to Castor. I of course promised to rope in Percy. 

I knew he'd agree, no questions asked, and he proved me right when I told him about it the next morning.

'Sure I'll help,' he said, as we walked along to breakfast. Tyson was still hanging around near him, skipping like a little kid. It meant all the other campers gave us a wide berth. Last year, when we'd returned from our quest, Percy's popularity had skyrocketed. Everyone had wanted to be his best friend. But the pendulum of popularity is as fickle as a god's mood. Now that he had a Cyclops half-brother, attitudes towards him shifted to condescension and he was coming in for a lot of teasing.

'Did you have a good family reunion this year?' Drew Tanaka sneered as we passed the Aphrodite table. 'Mom and Dad and the baby monster?'

'Shut up, Drew,' I said, as Percy glowered at her. Further down the table, Silena threw me an apologetic glance. 

'Let's team up for the chariot race,' I suggested, hoping it might cheer him up. 'Even if it's that idiot Tantalus's idea, it's too good to pass up. Chariots are totally Athena and Poseidon's thing, after all.'

'Yeah,' he said, brightening. 'I remember—your mom invented the chariot and my dad invented horses, right? We'll definitely win. And then no KP for a month!'

I wondered how the prize would work with an inter-cabin team. I guess it didn't really matter, since it was just Percy and Tyson in cabin three—it wasn't as thought two full cabins would be exempt from chores when we won. 

The border patrol schedule was harder to set up than I had thought. Although all the counsellors agreed to lead the patrols and we weren't short of volunteers—most of the older campers loved the camp and wanted to help protect it no matter what Tantalus said—as cabin leaders, we counsellors were also meant to be in charge of camp activities. Clarisse taught the wrestling classes, for instance, and Lee archery.

It also didn't help that Tantalus cancelled all morning activities, replacing them with scheduled chariot race preparation. Everyone, whether driving or not, was assigned duties in setting up the race course and spectator stands. The morning patrol groups had to sneak away to guard the hill, and I had to rotate them every hour so they wouldn't be missing long enough for Tantalus to get suspicious. And then with all the camp activities being shifted to the afternoons, it was difficult to schedule the activity leaders for patrols between their classes. Fortunately, Tantalus was pretty lackadaisical about activity schedules, which meant we counsellors were taking charge of it on our own. That gave me more leeway to squeeze in border patrol runs for everyone. 

In spite of all that, I got back into the swing of camp. Between chariot designing, border patrol, and regular training—something that seemed all the more vital now that camp was in danger of being attacked at any time—I was pretty busy, but every spare moment I got, I was looking into a way to revive Thalia's tree. 

I wasn't the only one; one morning I went up to examine the puncture wound and found a dryad named Juniper trying to work some tree magic, to no avail. Her song was sweet and coaxing, but the poison kept oozing from the hole. A group of satyrs chimed in with their reed pipes, and although their joint effort managed to breathe some life into the grass and flowers on the hill, even making the remaining pine leaves uncurl and glow a healthier green, the nature magic was only temporary. The sour stench of sickness returned once they stopped playing. 

'It might at least prolong the tree's life for a bit,' a satyr named Perry Barkwell said hopefully. 'But I don't know for how long. We need something a lot stronger.'

I thought of the ancient source of magic Chiron had mentioned, and of Leuke the once-poplar.

'I met a dryad called Leuke on my way to camp,' I told Perry and Juniper. 'She said she was a tree once, but then she turned back into a nymph when Odysseus put the Golden Fleece on her.'

'I've never heard of Leuke,' Juniper said after a brief hesitation. 'Was she dying, though?'

'I don't think so.'

'Anyway, the Golden Fleece hasn't been seen in three thousand years,' Perry said. 'No one knows where it disappeared to after Jason retrieved it from Colchis. If it even still exists. Nature's power has gotten so weak since Pan disappeared.'

I remembered that the satyrs believed finding the God of the Wild was the key to reviving nature everywhere. That was where Grover was now, out searching for Pan. I wondered if maybe Pan might be able to heal Thalia's tree if Grover managed to find him. The odds of him succeeding were slim, though—just like the Fleece, Pan hadn't been seen in millennia. And if Percy's dreams were any indication, Grover had run into serious trouble on his search. 

It didn't seem like nature magic, god or otherwise, was going to be much help.

I visited Will Solace in the infirmary, where the last batch of injured campers had finally been healed and sent on their way. 

'My healing magic doesn't really extend to arbour,' he said dubiously. 'But if the tree used to be a demigod … well, I suppose we could try some nectar.' 

We brought some up the hill, but pouring nectar on the wound and into the roots had even less effect than the satyrs' reed pipes. 

Will shook his head sadly. 'I don't think it's going to work. And we really can't waste any nectar. We'll need it soon enough.'

I looked at the dying tree. Half its branches were cold and empty now, winter-bare despite the fact that Thalia's pine had never shed a leaf in any season, not once in its lifetime. Until now. I felt like I couldn't bear to be around it any more, watching helplessly as it shrivelled away. It reminded me of the first time I'd watched Thalia lie on that hill, dying from her monster-inflicted wounds.

I went down to the canoe lake to work with Percy on chariot designs. Drew and a new Aphrodite girl whose name I didn't know came by and called out, 'Hey Percy, do you need some eyeliner for your eye? Oh no, wait, sorry— _eyes_.' They high-fived each other and went off, giggling madly. 

Percy balled his fists, crumpling up the design we'd been sketching. I took it from him and smoothed it out again. 

'Just ignore them, Percy,' I said. 'It isn't your fault you have a monster for a brother.'

'He's _not_ my brother! And he's not a monster, either!'

I looked at him in surprise. He had been distancing himself from Tyson for the past few days, as though finally coming to his senses about Cyclopes, so I didn't expect him to start sticking up for Tyson again. Or snap at me, when all I'd been trying to do the entire time was lift his spirits. It wasn't as though I didn't have my own worries about camp and Thalia's tree and Chiron. 

'Hey, don't get mad at me! And technically,' I pointed out, 'he _is_ a monster.' There really wasn't any room to quibble on that point. A Cyclops was a monster by definition. 

Percy turned on me. 'Well, _you_ gave him permission to enter the camp.'

My face heated up. 'Because it was the only way to save your life! I mean …' I took a deep breath and tried not to lose my temper. 'I'm sorry, Percy, I didn't expect Poseidon to _claim_ him.' I still wasn't comfortable with it. What were the gods thinking? 'Cyclopes are the most deceitful, treacherous—'

'He is not!' Percy said hotly. 'What have you got against Cyclopes anyway?'

I looked away. Percy didn't know about my experience with them, but I didn't really want to go over the story now. I wasn't sure where Tyson was—Percy had shaken him off for now, but Tyson was prone to popping up randomly, giggling and shouting, 'Percy is my brother!' for all and sundry to hear. Anyway, I felt like I shouldn't need to explain to Percy why Cyclopes were treacherous. It was like asking why hellhounds were vicious, or why dragons breathed fire. Monsters just _were_. Hunting demigods was in their make-up.

I decided not to get into it. I smoothed out the design page and tapped it with my pencil. 'Just forget it. Now, the axle for this chariot—'

Percy wouldn't drop the argument, though. 'You're treating him like he's this horrible thing. He saved my life.'

That stung. Yes, it was true, but I'd let him into camp _for_ that express purpose. Plus after doing the quest with him last year, and then fending off monsters over three states to find Percy last week—stabbing a Laistrygonian whose meal he'd been about to become, might I remind him … where did Percy get off telling _me_ off after all that? Just because a Cyclops had saved his life _once_? He should _know_ that I knew what I was talking about.

'Then maybe you should design a chariot with _him_ ,' I said icily. 

'Maybe I should,' Percy shot back.

I stood. 'Fine!'

He crossed his arms. 'Fine!'

I left him with the designs. They were only half-finished, and anyway, _I_ was the architect, the designer. He'd get nowhere without me. I'd make a better one with my siblings—I could win this race without Percy.

'Annabeth!' Sherman Yang, one of the Ares campers, came running towards me from Half-Blood Hill. I tensed immediately. Clarisse was leading border patrol at the moment with a team of her siblings. 

'What's going on? Is a monster attacking?'

'No,' Sherman huffed, 'but there's a delivery guy looking for you.'

Mystified, I followed him up the hill. Halfway down the other side, Clarisse was interrogating a disoriented-looking mailman, who looked ready to pee himself at the sight of her in her Greek battle armour. It probably didn't help that next to her was a buff-looking satyr wielding an enormous club. 

'Look, I must have gotten the wrong place. I tried to programme the GPS, but the address must be wrong—'

Clarisse grabbed him by the collar and shook him. 'Just get out of her,' she barked. 'Leave.'

The mailman didn't need telling twice. The second she let go, he sprinted back to the delivery van parked at the base of the hill. It took off so fast, I heard its tyres squealing. The muscular satyr ran after it, waving his club and yelling, 'Die!'

'What was that about?' I asked. 

Clarisse turned to me with a scowl. ' _You_ have a package,' she said, pointing. I looked at the box the mailman had left behind and saw, indeed, that my name was scrawled across the top in my dad's handwriting: _Annabeth Chase, Half-Blood Hill, Long Island, New York, 01623_. He'd sent my things on, as promised. Usually all post addressed to camp ended up at the Long Island post office. Argus did a daily mail run to pick them up, but of course, Argus was gone. 

'Now we have mortals turning up,' Clarisse muttered. 'Even the Mist isn't keeping them away any more.'

'Any sign of monsters?'

'No. I don't like it. I keep feeling like the hammer's about the drop. My dreams—' She stopped abruptly. 

'What?'

Clarisse glared at me. I thought she wasn't going to tell me, so I was about to leave when she said, 'I keep dreaming about this disembodied voice. It talks about weakening the defences. Saying it's useless to keep fighting and it has a better plan.'

'Kr—the Titan Lord,' I said. 'Percy had dreams like that last year. You can't listen to him, Clarisse. He's evil. He tricks people into—he tricked …' _Luke_ , I thought.

'I know that,' she snapped. 'That's why I don't like it.' She gave me a sour look. 'You're annoying, Chase, but we're on the same side, you know. I care about camp as much as you do.'

'I didn't mean—'

'Yeah, you did,' Clarisse said. She stuck the javelin she was holding into the ground, spear point first. 'It's my home, too. And her—' she jerked her head at Thalia's tree, 'I didn't know her, but what she did—well, she had guts.'

I nodded, swallowing hard at the memory that crashed over me: Thalia and Luke sharing one final, desperate look before he carried me down the hill, leaving her to take on the Underworld army on our tail.

I wondered if she'd thought she'd had a chance.

'Hedge!' Clarisse yelled. 'Enough—he's gone. Come help get this stuff into camp, will you?'

The club-wielding satyr came jogging back. He helped me heft the box back to my cabin.

Dad had sent my duffel bag, along with an assortment of books he'd thrown in for good measure: ancient Greek histories, architecture texts, even a tome on military aircraft for some reason. He'd written me a short letter, too, though I didn't know how I was going to reply without Argus to deliver our mail.

I packed away my clothes and shelved the books. At the bottom of my bag were the two items from my nightstand at home—Medea's sunscreen, useless now that the Colchis bulls were defeated, and Percy's paperweight. I dropped that back into the bag. I was still feeling put out about his choosing Tyson over me.

I flipped through the pages of a book on Greek mythology, not sure exactly what I was looking for. There was a chapter covering Jason and the Argonauts, but it focused heavily on their voyage through the clashing rocks, into the Sea of Monsters. The author had devoted quite some time to the origins of the Golden Fleece—skinned from the magical golden ram Chrysomallos—and its power, but precious little about what Jason had _done_ with it once he'd retrieved it. I felt certain that Chiron had been referring to the Fleece when he'd spoken of an ancient source of magic, that it was the one thing that could save Thalia's tree and the camp, but I was no closer to figuring out where to start finding it. If only I'd known to question Leuke more when I'd met her. Maybe if I got a quest, I could leave and find her again. 

I turned the page. The next story was about Daedalus and the Cretan Labyrinth. My mind snagged on what Prof Daly had told me about it having its own life force. For a while I entertained the idea of the Fleece being hidden in the Labyrinth. But I soon realised that was another dead end. I had no idea where to start searching for the Labyrinth either, let alone for a Fleece in is maze, that might not be inside anyway. This was all just conjecture. 

Frustrated, I put my books down. I was going round in circles. I needed to concentrate on something else, take a break before returning to the problem with fresh eyes. I pulled out a fresh sheet of drawing paper and began sketching chariot designs.


	10. We Make Monster Bird Shish Kebabs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth puts together a winning chariot design, but the race turns deadly when monsters attack from the air.

The next day, I had a firm plan for the chariot race, if not to save Thalia's tree. I was going to team up with my brother Malcolm: I would drive with him riding shotgun. He'd become quite an expert with a javelin in the past year and with its long reach, it made a good weapon for our purposes. 

We had a strategy meeting with the rest of our cabin, where we assessed the other teams and decided to build for speed. It wasn't hard to guess what the other teams would do. I had no doubt Ares would muscle their way through, while Hermes would rely on all manner of dirty tricks. Hephaestus was the one we needed to watch, as Beckendorf was a wizard with machines. But we figured the more fancy trappings he got on cabin nine's chariot, the more it would weigh them down. Percy was more of a wild card, since he was always full of surprises, plus he had a gift with horses. But he also had an Achilles heel the size of a Cyclops.

We built our chariot in the arts and crafts cabin, working out the most lightweight material possible that would withstand the demands of the race: the pull of the harnessed horses, centrifugal force on the hairpin turns, any jostling from other campers attempting foul play (although I didn't intend to let any of them get close enough to test it). 

My dad's military aircraft book came in handy after all. I got a bunch of hints from it on how to factor in aerodynamics. Our finished design was sleek and simple, calling for a blend of titanium and aluminium to craft it. Celia Little, who was our best weaver, had come up with a shimmering, interlocking pattern for the sides that would make us less noticeable to the other racers—perfect for a quick, stealthy getaway off the start line.

I sent Malcolm and Arthur off to the stables to select the fastest steeds to pull us while I went to the forges in search of the scrap metal we needed. It would probably have been more convenient to just build the whole thing there, but I figured most of the teams would be doing that. I didn't want to give away our strategies too early.

When I entered the forge, however, only Beckendorf was inside, chiselling away at something that was way too small to be a chariot. Maybe a part for something. Next to him, I saw the reason why everyone else was probably avoiding the forges at the moment: Tyson was sitting on a low stool (well, it was actually normal height, but his size made it look tiny) and moulding a tiny figurine in his massive hands.

'Hi Annabeth,' Beckendorf said. 'Looking for something?'

'Hi Annabeth,' Tyson echoed. He broke into a grin, showing off his crooked teeth. Bits of something brown and sticky were stuck in them. He held up the figure he'd been working on for Beckendorf's inspection. 

'Nice job, Tyson.' Beckendorf glanced between me and the bronze figurine. 'Good resemblance.'

With horror, I realised that it was a statue, the kind one might make of a goddess, only she was standing in a very un-goddess-like pose, with her hands on her hips. A mass of curls was cast in a splash of gold around her bronze face. It looked very much like … well, _me_.

Beckendorf shrugged. 'Figurines are good practice for detail work. I told him to model it on someone.'

Tyson nodded. 'You are pretty,' he said.

It should have been a compliment. If it had come from, say, Percy, I probably would have melted into a happy (albeit embarrassed) puddle. Seeing a replica of myself in a Cyclops's large hands, though, gave me a sense of revulsion.

Beckendorf saw the look on my face. He turned to Tyson. 'Hey, buddy, you wanna take the bronze bulls out to the field? Get them started ploughing. I'll join you in a sec.'

'Okay,' Tyson said. 'I will plough the fields.' He lumbered over to the entrance of the forge, where the Colchis bulls that had nearly burnt us to crisps were standing docilely, hitched to a plough. He grabbed their reins and led them out, repeating happily to himself, 'Buddy.'

'You managed to tame them?' I said to Beckendorf, impressed.

'Reprogrammed,' he corrected. 'They're automatons, after all.' He picked up an awl and continued his work—it was another figurine, like Tyson's. 'Used to be, camp had a dragon to guard against monsters. Before Thalia's tree,' he said as he worked. He seemed to be more comfortable talking when his hands were busy. 'I was hoping I could reconfigure the bulls to do the same. I haven't managed to figure that out yet, though.' His tone was wistful. 'Best I could do was set them up for manual labour.'

He finished the figurine he was working on and put down his tools. Like Tyson's, his was also cast in bronze, but she had a willowy figure and wavy hair, and the beautiful wide eyes and slender nose he'd carved intricately on her face were a stunning approximation of—

'Silena Beauregard?' 

Beckendorf shoved the statue quickly into the pocket of his coveralls. He was so dark-skinned, it was impossible to tell for sure if he was blushing, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.

'You like her, don't you?'

Beckendorf grunted. 'Doesn't matter. She's out of my league. Plus, Aphrodite and Hephaestus? Not exactly a good combination.'

'Don't think like that,' I chided. 'I mean, Athena and Poseidon are sworn rivals, but Percy and I became best friends anyway.' Well, we _were_ best friends when he wasn't being a brat like he was now.

'Best friends?' Beckendorf raised an eyebrow as if to say, _is that all?_

'Yes, _friends_ ,' I said firmly, although I felt my ears heat up. I changed the subject quickly. 'Silena's okay.' I thought of what I knew of her. Last year, she'd been eyeing Luke, but everyone had liked Luke. Including me. When she'd realised that I had a crush on him, too, she'd been considerate of my feelings, which was kind of uncharacteristic for an Aphrodite girl. I guess with Luke gone now, Beckendorf had as good a chance with her as anyone. 'If you like her, you should ask her out.'

Beckendorf didn't answer. Now that his hands were no longer occupied, he was turning taciturn again.

'Or you could just give her that,' I suggested, pointing at the lump of the hidden figurine in his coverall pockets. 'I bet she'd get the hint.'

When he still didn't answer, I tried a different tack. 'Why were you making it anyway?'

'Oh, well, I'm teaching Tyson metalwork. Fine details are important when you get down to crafting magical items.'

'Oh.' I realised something else that struck me as odd about Beckendorf. 'You seem really okay working with a Cyclops.'

Beckendorf shrugged again. 'My dad has Cyclopes working in all his forges. They're the best blacksmiths—I mean, they made the gods' symbols of power! I wouldn't mind an internship with one of them some day.' He picked up a cloth and absently buffed the top of a shield lying on the countertop. 'Besides,' he continued, 'He's Percy's friend. I noticed Percy's a pretty good judge of character.'

I looked at him in surprise. 'You think so?'

'You're his best friend, aren't you? And I used to think you were really scary and all, but Percy kind of changed my mind about that.' He smiled a bit. 'You're nice enough when I'm actually talking to you, I guess. Or maybe he'd rubbing off on you. Anyway, anyone who's okay with Percy is okay in my book.'

It was my turn to be tongue-tied. He kind of had a point. Although I'd known Beckendorf for four years, in all that time I'd never actually had a proper conversation like this with him. And I couldn't really think of why. 

Beckendorf got to his feet. 'Well, I'd better go help Tyson with the plough like I promised. See you on the start line tomorrow.'

OoOoO

The morning of the race was hot and muggy, more like summer in swampy Virginia than a typical Long Island June. Malcolm and I chose our spot on the starting line carefully, between the Aphrodite and Demeter teams, neither of whom we'd pegged as serious competitors. Aphrodite's chariot was gilded with jewels, and if the competition had been for best decorations, they probably would have won. Demeter's horses kept reaching back to nibble at the hay on their chariot.

I was satisfied to see that the other chariot designs were exactly as predicted. Ares had the largest, painted blood-red like their cabin, and they'd found massive skeletal horses to pull them. Clarisse and her brother Mark were flexing their muscles and sharpening their swords. 

Beckendorf saluted me from his ride, which was bulky as expected and looked like it concealed all manner of hidden compartments. His wingman Jake Mason was on his back under the wheels, doing some last-minute touch-ups.

Percy and Tyson were lined up next to Beckendorf. Their blue and white chariot had undulating sides reminiscent of ocean waves. It didn't appear to have any special trappings, but I wasn't going to take that for granted, given Tyson's work with Beckendorf. The horses hitched to the front looked extremely jittery. They shied away from Tyson whenever he came near, whinnying nervously.

I smirked. Percy was going to have his hands full getting his steeds to co-operate with Tyson on board. 

A screech rang out overhead, like the raking of hard nails on steel. I glanced apprehensively at the sky. Tantalus had insisted that everyone be at the race, participating or not. With the entire camp either on the starting line or spectating on the sidelines, we'd been unable to organise a morning patrol. I saw nothing but a flock of fat pigeons in the trees, which didn't look particularly threatening. We hadn't been attacked since the Colchis bulls, but I felt like the shoe was just waiting to drop. 

Percy came up to me, looking serious. 'Annabeth,' he said, 'I have to tell you something.'

I guessed he was over being mad at me. His timing sucked, but I was glad he was talking to me again.

'I dreamt about Grover again,' Percy continued. 'He made an empathy link with me. He's being held prisoner—he said he followed the smell of Pan but it turned out to be a trap. This guy … er, I forgot the name, Poly-something—anyway, a Cyclops has been luring satyrs to their death with some nature magic thing.'

My heart leapt. Nature magic thing? And powerful enough to give off the scent of the god of the wild himself. Could it be …?

Then the other thing Percy mentioned sunk in. A Cyclops. Poly-something. Did he mean Poly _phemus_? The most famous, vicious, bloodthirsty Cyclops in Greek mythology?

I glanced over at Tyson, who was still trying vainly to win over the horses. Percy had to be making fun of me, telling a tale about an evil Cyclops right before I was going into a dangerous race against one. And why not throw in more things that could grab my attention: Grover in danger, and a hint about the Golden Fleece?

'You're trying to distract me,' I said, calling his bluff. He must really be uneasy about his chances if he was resorting to such a blatant strategy. I had to hand it to him, though. He'd almost had me going for half a second.

'What? No, I'm not!'

'Oh, right,' I scoffed. 'Like Grover would just happen to stumble across the _one_ thing that could save the camp.'

Percy feigned ignorance. 'What do you mean?'

'Go back to your chariot, Percy.' I wasn't falling for his tricks. I'd seen before what a smooth-talker he could be when he put his mind to it.

Percy grabbed my arm. 'I'm not making this up,' he insisted. 'He's in trouble, Annabeth.' He looked at me earnestly. 

I really shouldn't have listened. I knew Percy was a master at distracting his enemies—mostly by yelling stupid things during a fight—and his story was really farfetched, even for a demigod. But it was hard to resist when his sea-green eyes bore straight into mine like that. Maybe he wasn't lying. Maybe he really had dreamed it.

But … an empathy link? That was really advanced magic. Last we'd seen Grover, he'd barely mastered three songs on his reed pipes. Also, if he'd really run into a Cyclops, he'd already be eaten. I remembered how Polyphemus's son, the Cyclops I'd once met in Brooklyn, had described satyrs as a special delicacy. What Cyclops would bother to imprison a satyr when he could just eat him right away?

I tried to explain this to Percy, but he shook his head stubbornly.

'The Oracle—we could consult the Oracle.'

My eyes widened. The Oracle issued all the prophecies that set the blueprints for a quest. In addition, she had also been responsible for the Great Prophecy—the scary prediction that a child of the Big Three, on reaching sixteen, would make a choice that could destroy Olympus. That prophecy was the reason why Kronos had made Luke draw Percy into Tartarus last year, why many of the gods would like to see Percy dead. It was the prophecy Chiron wanted me to heed (even though I only knew some of the lines) and protect Percy from. Knowing stuff like that could really mess with your mind. There were stories that some campers, long ago, had gone mad from the things the Oracle had shown them about the future. Consulting the Oracle wasn't something you suggested lightly.

A conch horn sounded. 'Charioteers, to your mark!' Tantalus shouted. The race was beginning.

'Come on, Annabeth!' Malcolm called. He was already on board our chariot, holding our horses steady.

I told Percy we could talk later. If he still stuck to his story after I won, I'd know he was serious.

Cheers rang out as we pulled our chariots to the start line. The pigeons shrieked along in unison. Tantalus gave the signal to start, and we were off.

Our horses leapt into action. Malcolm and I shot into an early lead. The other teams were so predictable. The Stoll brothers, true to form, took down the Apollo chariot right away, but they obviously hadn't thought things through as their sabotage came back on them and their own chariot flipped. Aphrodite's pretty chariot was pulled by Pegasi. Silena urged them into the skies, which I had to admit was a clever move. Unfortunately for them, vines shot from cabin twelve's chariot, holding them back. The Pegasi reared and Dionysus's sons were dragged through the mud, unable to control their chariot properly. Clarisse and Mark powered their way through, bashing Demeter's chariot into a messy haystack as they went. 

I watched all this from up ahead. Our swift steeds and aerodynamic design were paying off. Celia's woven pattern shimmered in the morning fog, making it hard for the others to aim attacks at us.

'See ya!' Malcolm yelled in jubilation as we made it to the first post clear ahead. I navigated the first turn easily, feeling confident. Only three other chariots were still in the running: Ares, Hephaestus, and Poseidon. Percy was coming along surprisingly fast. He'd managed to spur his horses on in spite of Tyson. Beckendorf tried to take him out, but Tyson fought off the attack easily. Against all odds, they were actually advancing on us. I felt Malcolm ready his javelin in defence. 

The flutter of a million wings overhead distracted me suddenly. The pigeons in the trees had risen en masse and they were hurtling towards us like rockets. Instead of aiming at Percy, Malcolm had to skewer the line of birds flying at us with his javelin. I heard Clarisse yell out behind me. Mark raised a net over their heads to keep the birds off.

I figured Tantalus must have cooked this up to make the races more entertaining, until I noticed that the screams coming from the stands were no longer cheers but actual screams of terror. A fat white blob landed on the side of my chariot and sizzled like poison. It was the foulest-smelling pigeon poop I'd ever encountered.

'Monsters!' Malcolm yelled, brandishing his skewer of birds. They were no longer disguised as pigeons. I took in their nastily curved bronze beaks and razor-sharp talons before they disintegrated into a cloud of ashy feathers, leaving behind the smell of overcooked meat.

'Stymphalian birds!' It was the attack I'd been dreading, and it couldn't have come at a worse time. Everyone was out in the open and half our best fighters were stuck in chariot pile-ups, out of commission. I grit my teeth and pulled up next to Percy. 'They'll strip everyone to bones if we don't drive them away.'

He caught on immediately. 'Tyson, we're turning around!'

We charged back towards the stands. I tried to galvanise the campers and get them organised, but they were already swarmed. There must have been millions of birds. Malcolm chucked his javelins as fast as he could, but he was quickly running out of weaponry. Percy got out his sword, Riptide, and somehow managed to slash at the birds while steering one-handed. 

The birds just kept coming.

Malcolm pierced a flock with his last javelin. 'I'm out!' he gasped. 

I shifted the reins to my right hand, the way I saw Percy doing, and drew my knife with my left. I wasn't as good with my non-dominant hand, but I managed to slash away the next bird to attack.

Percy yelped as a bird pecked him from behind. 'Too many! How do you get rid of them?'

'Heracles used noise,' I recalled. 'Brass bells—he scared them away with the most horrible sound he could …' I saw the Apollo campers, alternating between beating at the birds with their bows and trying to get a clear shot into the fray. Will Solace put his fingers in his mouth and let out a screeching whistle. The nearest bird squawked and flapped away from Will, who then sent an arrow through its heart. In the time it took him to load and shoot, however, the next bird descended. We would need something louder, more continuous …

The thought of wailing operatic violins flashed in my head suddenly. 'Percy, Chiron's collection.'

'You think it'll work?'

I nodded. It had to—I didn't have any other ideas. I told Malcolm to take the reins and go help the spectators. Once he had them firmly in hand, I swung myself over the side of our chariot, straight into Percy's. I bumped up against Tyson, and it was a mark of how dire the situation was that I barely noticed it.

'To the Big House,' I said. 'It's our only chance!'

Percy retracted his sword and concentrated on getting us across the lawn as quickly as possible, while I stabbed birds and Tyson wrung their necks with his bare hands. We zipped past Clarisse going in the other direction, shouting, 'The fight is here, cowards!' Before Percy even pulled to a stop by the back porch of the Big House, I was already leaping off at a run.

Everything in Chiron's apartments was exactly as he'd left it. Tantalus must have taken different accommodations. I hefted Chiron's boom box into my arms while Percy got the records, and we raced back to the track.

When we got back, the entire race track had exploded into flame. It looked like someone—I guessed Beckendorf—had tried to barbecue the birds with Greek fire, but they'd only succeeded in making a bonfire out of the remaining chariots. Tyson kept the birds off us while Percy and I set up the boom box. 

The moment we pressed play, the birds went into a panic. They lifted off in a swirl of feathers, banging into each other in their frenzy to escape the warbling opera music blasting from the speakers. 

The Apollo campers, no longer hampered by birds at close range, looked up. 

'Now!' I yelled at them. 'Archers!'

They fired at my signal, and soon it was raining Stymphalian shish kebabs.

Percy turned the boom box off. In the silence, my ears still felt like they were ringing from the shrieks of the birds and the wail of the music.

Tantalus crawled out from under the stands where he'd gone for cover, the coward. 

'Bravo!' he said, as though the chariots weren't wrecked and burning before him, as if we weren't all bleeding and reeking of Stymphalian bird poop. 'We have our first winner!'

Clarisse's mouth was open in shock as Tantalus draped a laurel wreath around her neck. I guess technically she _had_ won, only it didn't seem to matter given the circumstances. A bird had pecked her face, leaving a painful-looking red welt on her cheek.

'And now,' Tantalus continued with a nasty smile on his face, 'to punish the troublemakers who disrupted this race.' He matched over to Percy and me. 'Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase.'

'We didn't do anything!' I protested.

'If not for your awful chariot driving,' Tantalus spat, 'those pigeons would never have gotten involved. They were minding their own business until you provoked them.'

My jaw dropped.

'We didn't provoke them!' Percy said.

'Provoked them,' Tantalus repeated, 'with your abysmal driving.'

'That's not fair!' I said, while Percy spluttered angrily. Tantalus just smiled coldly at us.

'You—you—oh, go chase a doughnut!' Percy snarled. 

It was hardly the gravest (or smartest) of insults, but Tantatlus's face darkened angrily. 

'Punishment,' he snapped. 'Ares cabin is exempt from chores all month. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase … and yes, of course, the Cyclops. You will take over their duties. Beginning with Kitchen Patrol, right now.'


	11. I Mastermind A Midnight Prison Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth and Percy work out the location of the Golden Fleece and sneak out of camp in search of it.

Tantalus called for a feast of fried Stymphalian bird in honour of Clarisse's inaugural victory. Percy, Tyson, and I were stuck in the kitchen below the pavilion scrubbing the never-ending piles of silverware with boiling lava, but I doubted I would have enjoyed the food even if we'd been allowed to attend. I kept smelling the putrid stench of their droppings.

Percy related his dream about Grover again, in full detail this time, which was even weirder than the condensed version he'd told me before the race.

'He's passing as a lady Cyclops,' I repeated. 'And Polyphemus wants to marry him.'

'Yes,' Percy said, looking so deadly serious, I decided it had to be true. I couldn't imagine making up a story like that without cracking up. 'He said he's in the Sea of Monsters. That's where Polyphemus has been luring all the satyrs who went searching for Pan.'

'With ancient nature magic.' I hardly dared to believe it. 'If he's really found it, and if we could retrieve it—'

'Hold on, you act like this … whatever-it-is Grover found is the only thing in the world that could save the camp. What _is_ it?'

I was surprised that he hadn't worked it out. 'I'll give you a hint. What do you get when you skin a ram?'

'Messy?'

Sometimes I swear he acted dumb just to annoy me. 'A _fleece_ ,' I said. 'The coat of a ram is called a fleece. And if that ram happens to have golden wool—'

'The Golden Fleece.' He caught on at last. 'Are you serious?'

I nodded. And then I remembered something else. 'Percy, remember the Grey Sisters? They said they knew the location of the thing you seek. And they mentioned Jason. Three thousand years ago, they told _him_ how to find the Golden Fleece.' I narrowed my eyes. 'You _do_ know the story of Jason and the Argonauts?'

'Yeah,' he said. I was about to sigh with relief when he continued, 'That old movie with the clay skeletons.'

Gods help me, he was hopeless sometimes. I told him the story—in particular the parts Columbia Pictures had left out: two children of Zeus had ridden Chrysomallos out of Greece to escape being sacrificed to monsters, and later skinned the magical ram as an offering to the gods. The golden ram had been so powerful, its fleece could work the strongest nature magic in the world, curing plague, eliminating pollution.

'It could cure Thalia's tree,' Percy said. 

'And it would totally strengthen the borders of Camp Half-Blood,' I agreed. The only problem, though, was that it was missing, and had been for centuries. No hero had ever found it. Until, as Percy pointed out now, Grover.

Which brought me back to the reason why I'd been so sceptical in the first place. It was the biggest coincidence in the world: at the same time that Grover sent Percy a plea to be rescued from a place where the Golden Fleece was hidden—that no one had found for centuries—Thalia's tree was poisoned and camp besieged by monsters. It was so well set up, it felt like a neat strategy. And we certainly knew someone who was a master of manipulation on that level. 

My eyes were drawn unconsciously to my bronze dagger, which I'd laid aside while washing up.

'What if it's a trap?' I felt torn between the hope of saving camp and the possibility that it was all a clever strategy of Kronos to lure Percy out. I thought of Chiron, cautioning against impulsive action, making me swear a binding oath to protect Percy. 

'What choice do we have? Are you going to help me rescue Grover or not?'

There was a thick splash next to us. Tyson was sailing cups around in the lava tub, unperturbed by the heat of the molten liquid, or our serious conversation.

I lowered my voice. 'Percy, we'll have to fight a Cyclops,' I reminded him. 'Polyphemus, the _worst_ of the Cyclopes.' Worse still, to get there, we'd have to travel over the sea. I remembered Ethel talking about his nautical voyages. 'There's only one place his island could be. The Sea of Monsters.'

'Where's that?'

I raised my eyebrows. Percy had just _said_ Grover was in the Sea of Monsters. I thought that meant he'd know about it, but apparently not. 'The Sea of Monsters,' I said. 'The same sea Odysseus sailed through, and Jason, and Aeneas and all the others.'

'You mean the Mediterranean?'

'No. Well, yes ... but no.'

'Another straight answer,' he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 'Thanks.'

'Look, Percy, the Sea of Monsters is the sea all heroes sail through on their adventures.' I wondered if he'd ever really grasped the concept of archetypes and the Western migration that I'd tried to explain to him so many times. 'It used to be in the Mediterranean, yes. But like everything else, it shifts locations as the West's centre of power shifts.'

I let him work it out slowly. With Percy, telling him things straight often meant he just forgot them minutes later. He had a better memory for stuff he actually reasoned out himself.

Thanks to Ethel, I had an approximate location for the shifted Sea of Monsters. Unfortunately, that didn't narrow things down much. The Bermuda Triangle wasn't exactly a precise location. I was worried enough about sea travel—children of Athena didn't have a great track record in Poseidon's domain—without factoring in monster-infested waters.

Percy was more optimistic about it. 'Hey, I'm the son of the sea god,' he said. 'This is my home turf. How hard can it be?'

Easy for him to say. But I guess he had a point. If I were with an actual _son_ of Poseidon, it would mitigate things.

'We'll have to talk to Tantalus, get approval for a quest,' I said, realising the next snag in our plan. 'He'll say no.'

'Not if we tell him tonight at the campfire in front of everybody,' Percy said. 'The whole camp will hear. They'll pressure him. He won't be able to refuse.'

My appraisal of Percy's strategic ability went up again. That was him—one minute he'd seem impossibly dumb, the next he'd display a stroke of brilliance.

We got back to dishes. Fortunately, oblivious to our conversation, Tyson had made it through all the cups. I wanted to finish quickly now. I needed to raid Chiron's library for a book on the Odyssey.

OoOoO

The mood at the campfires hadn't improved much from the first night. It was particularly dismal today, with half the campers back in the infirmary recovering from the attack of the Stymphalian birds. I didn't think Tantalus's feast had succeeded in raising anyone's spirits, except perhaps the Ares cabin, who were all delighted at getting out of chores for a whole month. 

Tantalus was still chasing after food as we sang along in monotones. I felt rather vindictively vilified every time I saw his marshmallows leap away from him. Had I thought his punishment cruel? I now decided it was perfectly justified for such an awful man.

Percy got up before Tantalus could make the closing announcements. I got to my feet next to him, backing him up as he presented our idea to travel to the Sea of Monsters, rescue Grover, and bring back the Fleece.

'The power of the Golden Fleece is legendary,' I said. 'It heals sickness, it reinforces natural magic. Chiron said that there was only one source of magic that could possibly help Thalia—her pine tree, I mean. He had to be referring to this. The Fleece can save the camp. I'm certain of it.'

'Nonsense.' Tantalus's hateful eyes bore into me. I could tell he didn't like me bringing up Chiron. 'We don't need saving.'

Half the campers' jaws dropped. The other half glared at Tantalus. With the bird attack fresh in everyone's memory, no one could buy what he'd just said.

'Besides, the Sea of Monsters? That's hardly an exact location. You wouldn't even know where to look.' Tantalus looked triumphant, like he'd crafted the perfect counterargument, and I had to admit he _had_. I'd made the same point to Percy myself, earlier.

But Percy said, 'Yes, I would.'

I gaped at him. 'You would?'

'Thirty, thirty-one, seventy-five, twelve,' Percy recited. I recognised the numbers—they were the exact list the Grey Sisters had given him.

'Ooo-kay, thank you for sharing those meaningless numbers,' Tantalus said with a snort.

Percy met his eyes steadily. 'They're sailing co-ordinates. Latitude and longitude. I, uh, learned about it in social studies.'

My heart leapt. He was right! I could've kissed him. It made absolute sense—thirty degrees and seventy-five degrees west would put us somewhere off Florida, which was the approximate location of the Bermuda Triangle. With the exact co-ordinates, we could even programme it into a GPS. 

'We need a quest!' I said firmly.

Tantalus held up his hands, but everyone began to chant, 'We need a quest,' drowning out any objection he could raise.

'Fine!' he said at last. 'You brats want me to assign a quest?'

The _YES_ was deafening. The campfire flames, sensing our mood, roared higher than I'd seen them all week.

Tantalus gave in. 'Very well. I shall authorise a champion to undertake this perilous journey, to retrieve the Golden Fleece and bring it back to camp. Or die trying.'

I exchanged a triumphant look with Percy. We'd done it—gotten Tantalus to assign the quest, even worked out the exact location we needed. We might even be able to set off as soon as the next morning.

'I will allow our champion to consult the Oracle, and choose two companions for the journey. And I think the choice of champions is obvious.'

I was about to step forward and claim the quest when Tantalus called out, ' _You_ shall lead this quest … Clarisse!'

'What? No!' I said, but I was drowned out by the cheering and stamping of the Ares cabin.

'I accept the quest!' Clarisse shouted.

'Wait! Grover is _my_ friend!' Percy jumped in. 'The dream came to _me_.'

'Sit down! You had your chance last summer!' Sherman Yang jeered.

Clarisse thumped her chest. ' _I_ accept the quest,' she said again, glaring defiantly at us. 'I, Clarisse, daughter of Ares, will save the camp!'

'Annabeth's more qualified!' Malcolm said. 'And she and Percy saved everyone from the Stymphalian birds.'

'If it's not Percy, it should be Annabeth,' Anita agreed.

Mark Harrison threw a handful of marshmallows at us.

'They're just attention hogs!' Drew Tanaka from Aphrodite chimed in. 'It should be Clarisse!' Next to her, Silena's eyes darted between me and Clarisse, looking pained. She stayed silent, twisting her silver charm bracelet nervously.

Beckendorf stood and crossed his arms. 'I think it should be Percy.'

'No, Annabeth!' insisted Malcolm.

'Clarisse!' several Ares kids yelled back in unison. 

I was really mad. There were scores of reasons why I was qualified for the quest. I'd wanted to lead one since I was seven, and I'd trained harder than anyone else for it. I was the longest standing camper at Camp Half-Blood. I'd successfully completed the quest for Zeus's lightning bolt with Percy and Grover last year—like Percy said, if we were rescuing Grover, it should be the two of us. And I was Thalia's best friend … her sole remaining friend.

There shouldn't have been a debate over my right to lead. 

Tantalus shut us all up, and launched into a completely unrelated story. I finally found out what crime he had committed to land himself in the Fields of Punishment: he had cooked his own children and served them to the gods in a stew. He told us the tale with no hint of regret or repentance. It was clear that he would be only too glad to put us through the same fate.

I shivered, wondering once again how someone like him had any right to take Chiron's place.

Even Clarisse looked revolted. She squirmed when he sent her on to the Oracle, like she regretted gaining his favour.

'Let me remind everyone,' Tantalus said, his eyes glittering maliciously, 'no one leaves this camp without my permission. Anyone who tries … well, if they survive the attempt, they will be expelled forever, but it won't come to that. The harpies will be enforcing curfew from now on, and they are always hungry.!'

And as though he hadn't just threatened to have us eaten (or possibly served up in a stew, I wasn't sure which) if we misbehaved, he bade us good night and waved us off to bed.

All the other campers went straight to their cabins, but I took a detour around to the Big House, hoping to catch Clarisse. I waited on the back porch until she emerged, looking a little shaken—not that I could blame her, given how the Oracle could be.

'Clarisse,' I said.

'What do _you_ want, Chase?'

'You can take two companions on the quest.'

'And I suppose you want me to pick you and Jackson?'

'Well, we know where to go. And Percy's good with water. We could help—'

'Thanks, but no thanks,' Clarisse said darkly. 'This is _my_ chance to shine. You're just out to steal my glory.'

'I'm not,' I promised. 'I just want to save the camp, just like you.'

'Yeah, right. Save the sweet-talk. You've never believed I could be as dedicated to the camp as you. This is _my_ quest, and you can butt out.' She slammed her shoulder into me hard and stalked off down the lawn.

OoOoO

I hoped I might dream that night of something that would help me convince Clarisse to let me join the quest, but I found myself hiding among a pile of crates, behind a large metal sheet. In my hands, I clutched a rusty old hammer. I could hear footsteps approaching and I trembled in fear.

Maybe, maybe the footsteps would pass me by, I thought desperately. Maybe the monsters wouldn't find me. But I knew they would. They always did.

The sheet of corrugated tin shifted. I lashed out with the hammer, not wanting to give the monster time to attack. He was faster than me, though. My hammer swung through the air and a strong hand gripped my wrist tightly, sending the hammer flying out of my hand. 

The monster was a teenage boy with wild blue eyes and a shock of sandy hair.

I was dreaming of the night I'd met Luke—and Thalia.

There she was, standing behind a terrifying image of Medusa—her shield, Aegis. I hadn't thought of it in years. What had happened to it after we got to camp?

Luke held me tightly and promised me they weren't monsters. 'We fight them, too,' he said earnestly.

Thalia's shield shrunk with a snap, becoming a silver bracelet around her left wrist. She came to stand side by side with Luke. Her spiky black hair was a sharp contrast to Luke's wavy locks, but her eyes had the same, hunted look. The look of someone who'd been chased by monsters too many times.

'You're like me?' I said.

'Yeah. We're … well, it's hard to explain, but we're monster-fighters,' Luke said. 'Where's your family?'

I crossed my arms, trying to look brave and defiant, but my voice came out sounding forlorn. 'My family hates me. They don't want me. I ran away.'

I saw understanding in Thalia and Luke's eyes, and hope flared in my chest. Could it really be that I'd found others like me? 

And then Luke offered to let me join them, giving me his knife—the bronze dagger I'd carried ever since—as a token of trust. 

'You're part of _our_ family now. And I promise I won't let anything hurt you. I'm _not_ going to fail you like our families did us. Deal?'

The knife felt warm in my hand as he handed it over. It was the first time I'd seen celestial bronze, and its soft glow fascinated me. It seemed to seal our pact with its gentle light.

Thalia took my hand and we left the construction site. Luke led the way, taking us through winding back alleys and overgrown yards, out into wild country.

'Our nearest hideout is on the James River,' he said. 'We have supplies and stuff there.'

As the night wore on, I started struggling to keep up.

'Are you tired, Annabeth?' Thalia asked.

'No,' I said, although I was stifling a yawn. I was a little afraid that if I flagged, they might realise what a chore it was to have me tagging along, slowing them down.

'We're probably not going to make it all the way to the James River tonight anyway,' Luke said. I got the feeling he knew the tiredness I was trying to hide. 'Why don't we stop and make camp?'

'I can keep going!' I insisted.

'Nah, this is a good place. We can make up a fire in the woods and Thalia and I can trade off on guard duty. I'll take the first watch so you girls can get some rest.'

Thalia fell asleep almost immediately by the crackling campfire we set up, but I tried to prop my drooping eyelids open. Luke looked at me kindly.

'You can sleep, Annabeth,' he said. 'I won't let anything happen to either of you.'

'You—won't?' The words came out with a big yawn.

'We're a family now, remember?' The firelight danced across his face, distorting his features. Then the dream shifted and I was looking at an older Luke, with the dragon claw scar he'd gotten three years ago on his quest and eyes that were hard and cold. Dim golden light still flickered over his face, but not from a fire. He was staring at a golden sarcophagus with pictures etched into its side: heroes being crushed under large fists and struck down with bolts from the sky.

'Family,' he murmured softly. He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, I saw a pained, longing look in them. 'Hang on, Thalia. If this works, we could be a family again.' He touched the sarcophagus lightly. 'You promise, right?' He cocked his head like he was listening for a response.

' _Yes_ …' a voice hissed softly. 

Luke got up and left. I approached the sarcophagus, half curious, half disturbed by the images on the side. I could hear a faint whisper coming from inside it, but I couldn't make out the words. It drew me closer as though I was in a trance.

I lifted the lid and found myself enveloped in darkness.

'Help, Thalia!' It was Luke's voice. And then it warped into Thalia's screams, and then, bizarrely, my own, crying, 'Help me, Luke!' The voices echoed around me. In the background, low rumbling laughter rang out. It made me shiver. I knew that laughter. It was the Cyclops from Brooklyn, mimicking each of us in turn.

'Annabeth, help!' Percy's voice.

_It's a trap. Don't fall for it,_ I told myself.

It was a moment before I realised I wasn't staring into darkness any more, but the dim interior of cabin six. I had woken up. And I could still hear Percy yelling for help.

I jumped out of bed and snatched up my knife from my nightstand. Outside, the muggy day had given way to a cool, clear night. Percy's shouts travelled distinctly across from the direction of the beach: 'Monsters attacking—come quick! Annabeth!'

I sprinted across the fields without a second thought. An enormous figure came barrelling out of the shadows and nearly bowled me over. I sidestepped and saw that it was Tyson. 

My blood ran cold. How could I have forgotten that there was a Cyclops at camp, probably every bit as capable at mimicking voices as the one that haunted my dreams? 

I brandished my knife in defence. But Tyson just looked at it in bewilderment and pointed towards the beach.

'Percy needs help,' he said.

I didn't bother answering. Seeing as he hadn't been luring me out to attack me after all, I sheathed my knife and continued running, calling out to Percy. Tyson followed behind me, bellowing Percy's name, too.

Percy's cries for help faded as I got close, which worried me, but when I reached the beach, I found him standing at the edge of Long Island Sound, staring silently out to sea. There was not a monster in sight. 

Percy turned when I ran up. He had a thermos flask in one hand and a little pop-cap bottle, the kind for pills, in the other. He looked concerned, but not surprised to see me. 

'What's going on? I heard you calling for help!' I said.

Tyson appeared, panting hard, at the top of the beach. 'Me, too! Heard you yell, "Bad things are attacking!"'

Percy said, 'I didn't call you guys. I'm fine.'

'But then who … what …'

He glanced to his left, where there were three canary-yellow duffel bags lying in the sand, all stuffed to the brim. 'Just listen—we don't have much time. Hermes left all this stuff. He wants us to go after the Fleece.'

' _Hermes_?' I said incredulously. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't the god of thieves.

'Yeah, I was—well, I snuck out, and he just showed up on the beach and told me a whole story—er, actually that part's probably not important. He gave me this flask of winds—'

Tyson burped helpfully.

'Er, not _that_ sort of wind. At least I hope not.'

I hoped so, too. Tyson's breath smelled sour, like he'd been eating sauerkraut all day.

'And I got this bottle of vitamins, and I don't know exactly how they're meant to help on the quest, but he said they would.' He passed me the bottle. 

The label was in Greek. _Hermultivites! All the essentials you need to feel yourself again. Now in chewable monster shapes!_

I shrugged, mystified, and handed it back. I couldn't imagine how vitamins would be of use either.

'Anyway, he thought we could save …' Percy faltered a little and averted his eyes. 'More than just Grover,' he finished.

Although he didn't say Luke's name, I knew that was who he meant. Why else would Hermes, Luke's father, issue a quest to _Percy_?

The Luke from my dream, whispering, ' _family_ ,' tugged at my heart. I was still angry at him for betraying us last year, but if there was a chance, like Hermes seemed to be thinking, that Luke would turn back, if we could convince him to leave Kronos …

My mind was made up in an instant.

'Percy, we have to do the quest.'

'We'll get expelled, you know,' Percy said dubiously. 'Trust me, I'm an expert at getting expelled.'

'So?' He'd been eager enough to go earlier on, when we'd discussed this in the kitchen, and at the campfire. Why was he holding back suddenly? 'If we fail, there won't _be_ any camp to come back to,' I reminded him.

'Yeah, but you promised Chiron—'

I couldn't believe he was fighting so hard against this. It was like the moment it involved saving Luke, he no longer cared. Like he wanted me to choose between protecting him or getting Luke back. But I was sure I could do both.

'I promised I'd keep you from danger,' I told him. 'I can only do that by coming with you!' Besides, with camp as dangerous as the outside world these days, did it make a difference whether we stayed or not? 'Tyson can stay behind and tell them where we've gone.'

'I want to go,' Tyson objected.

'No!' I said immediately. I could just see it—the horror, travelling with a Cyclops. We'd have to have our guard up all the time. It would be just like waiting for the next wave of monsters to attack camp. I turned to Percy for support. 'I mean, Percy, come on. You know that's impossible.'

Percy tapped his foot nervously. The shrieking of the camp harpies sounded in the distance. They were out patrolling. We were going to have to move quickly; they would realise soon enough that we were breaking curfew.

'We can't leave him,' Percy said at last. 'Tantalus will punish him for us being gone.'

I couldn't believe him. How badly could Tantalus hurt Tyson anyway? Not enough to compare to our lugging a monster around that could turn on us any minute, I bet. The trip was going to be dangerous enough. Had Percy forgotten where we were headed?

'Percy, we're going to Polyphemus's island,' I reminded him. He still looked blank. 'Polyphemus is a …' I glanced at Tyson, who was looking anxiously between us. 'S-i-k—' I began, but spelling wasn't my strong suit. Dyslexia—the bane of every demigod. I made a second stab at spelling 'Cyclops', then gave up. 'You know what I mean!'

'Tyson can go if he wants to,' Percy said. 

Tyson beamed and clapped his hands like an excited five-year-old. 'Want to!'

'Look, there's no time,' Percy said. 'If we're going, our first step is to get on the ship.' He pointed out to sea, where the faint lights from a cruise ship were winking at us in the distance.

I sighed heavily. Percy had that obstinate look in his eyes, the _I'm not going to back down without a fight_ glare. I'd have to talk to him about it another time. Maybe we could find somewhere to ditch Tyson along the way. At least it would get him away from camp. 

'All right. How do we get to that ship?'

'Hermes said my father would help.'

'Well then, Seaweed Brain,' I said testily. 'What are you waiting for?'

Percy edged forward so that he was standing in the surf. The cries of the harpies got louder as he awkwardly asked Poseidon for a ride, all slow and uncertain as if he hadn't just insisted that we were short on time. Fortunately, Poseidon was prompt. Like brushstrokes across the water, three white lines streaked towards us. A shower of sea spray exploded over us as the white heads of three magnificent stallions emerged from the surf, tossing their silver manes proudly.

'Hippocampi!' I gasped. Although we _were_ in a hurry, I couldn't help being distracted by their beauty. Their necks arched gracefully from rainbow-coloured fish bodies, with scales and fins that shimmered prettily in the moonlight. I reached my hand out to one, who nuzzled me affectionately.

The first harpy's head popped up over the sand dunes at the top of the beach. She let out a triumphant yell at the sight of us.

'We'll admire them later,' Percy said quickly. 'Come on!' He tossed me a duffel bag and grabbed one for himself. 'Tyson! Grab a duffel bag!'

We had to yell at Tyson three times and nudge him into action before he stopped gawking at the hippocampi. I was tempted to just leaving him staring on the beach, but Percy refused to go without him.

Four more harpies joined the lead one. Not a minute too soon, we boarded the hippocampi, speeding off as the harpies came tottering down to the beach, wailing at being cheated of their promised snack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon dialogue is from SoM—and writing this chapter, I realised just how much RR phrased Annabeth's explanation about the Fleece with pure exposition in mind! It wasn't easy to make her lines seem natural in a conversation from her PoV!


	12. Our Luxury Cruise Is Cut Short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth, Percy, and Tyson explore a cruise ship and once again need to make a quick escape.

The hippocampi brought us right up to the hull of the gigantic cruise ship. From shore, it had seemed like a tiny speck in the distance, but up close it was as big as a city, complete with a twenty-foot tall Greek statue chained to the bow. The letters on either side of it were in large, black print so I could decipher them: _PRINCESS ANDROMEDA_.

The name rang a bell, but I had no time to work out why it was familiar. The hippocampi swam us up to a service ladder on the side of the ship that seemed to go on forever, like climbing a New York skyscraper. I gritted my teeth and started to climb. After what seemed like hours, I dropped down onto a deck full of inflatable rubber rafts, as yellow as my duffel bag. A set of double doors led into the ship's interior, but they were locked. I worked my knife along its edges, cursing when it slipped and cut my fingers several times. I couldn't help thinking of Luke, how his Hermes-inherited talent at getting through locked doors would have come in handy now. Finally, we managed to work them open and we tiptoed through.

The _Princess Andromeda_ was completely deserted. There was not a person in sight, nor a single sound as we made our way through the ship's corridors. Tyson claimed it smelled bad, but couldn't say precisely _what_ he was smelling. Even though Percy insisted Tyson could smell monsters like satyrs could, I was sceptical. Tyson _was_ a monster, even if Percy didn't want to concede the fact. They sniffed out their prey—us—not other monsters.

We finally found an open, empty suite somewhere around the eighth or ninth level. By that time, I was pretty tired of climbing, be it ladders or stairs. The suite had two connecting rooms, each with a bed, a couch, and a table. We plonked our duffel bags on one of the tables, next to a welcome basket. It was the kind hotels usually provide for new guests, with fruit and chocolate and stuff. 

I unzipped my bag, unsure of what I'd find. I hoped the supplies would be good. I was still in my pyjamas shorts, and I hadn't had time to take anything with me but my knife.

Right at the top, the first thing I saw when I opened the bag, was my Yankees cap. It was a clear sign that the duffels had been packed by a god. There was no way otherwise for my magic hat, which should have been in my cabin, to turn up here.

Feeling a lot more optimistic, I rifled through the rest of the supplies: mortal and mythological money, a generous supply of fresh clothes, a substantial stash of rations that included several canteens of nectar and hard squares of ambrosia … there was so much stuff, I couldn't believe Hermes had managed to cram it all into one small duffel. Then again, he _was_ the god of travel. I guess packing came under his purview as well. 

I zipped everything back up again. 'I'll be next door,' I told Percy. Now that the adrenaline of our escape from camp had worn off, my body was yelling at me that it was the middle of the night and I'd brutally dragged it out of bed. 'You guys …' I glanced at the welcome basket on the table, with its luscious fruit and chocolate on display. Hermes had left us enough food that we wouldn't have to worry about scrounging for any, but you never knew with boys. ' _Don't_ eat anything,' I warned.

'You think this place is enchanted?' Percy asked.

'I don't know,' I said. Although I didn't believe Tyson's sense of smell, I was also wary of the uncanny silence across the ship. 'Something isn't right. Just … be careful.'

As I lay down on the bed in the next room, I found myself wondering about Hermes's generosity. Sure, we were sort of on a quest at his behest, but my last experience getting quest rations and transport from a god had been very different. Ares's idea of a reward for doing him a favour (a very humiliating favour, too, I should mention—my face still burned at the mere thought of our misadventure in Denver last year) had been a smelly zoo truck and a tiny backpack with twenty bucks and a pack of Oreos.

Maybe it was because Hermes was the god of travellers. Or maybe he valued this quest very highly. I didn't know what his deal was. Luke had always hated his dad, and the one time I'd met him … well, I didn't remember much about it, but I knew Luke had had a shouting match with him that had ended in him storming away, colder and angrier than I'd ever seen him before. Luke had always maintained that Hermes didn't care about him at all. But if he was favouring us on a quest to save Luke …

I wondered if maybe Luke and Hermes's relationship was anything like mine with my dad—full of misunderstanding.

Although I was tired, I didn't end up sleeping very well. There was a background hum (the ship's engines, I guessed) that kept waking me, and I had the constant feeling like I was rolling about, which I guessed was thanks to being on water. I wasn't exactly seasick, but the sensation was disconcerting. I dipped in and out of consciousness, finally breaking out of my drowsiness when a cheerful voice blared over the intercom, greeting all passengers and announcing the events for the day.

I was relieved at this sign of normalcy, thinking that maybe we'd just been overly suspicious last night, until I heard, 'and for our _special guests_ , disembowelling practice on the Promenade!'

I was immediately wide awake. _Special guests_ —did that mean they knew we were on board? And _disembowelling_ practice? I jumped up and knocked on Percy's door, but I was too anxious to wait for an answer. He hadn't locked it, anyway.

' _Disembowelling_ practice?' I said, half-hoping Percy might tell me I'd misheard the announcement.

Tyson yelped. He was lying half-dressed on the couch. His face turned beet red and he yanked his shirt over his head.

Percy glanced at my hair and I flushed, suddenly aware of how messy it must be after tossing about all night. Hermes had neglected to pack me a comb, so I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to tease out the tangles. After a minute or so I gave up and just did my best to bully it into a painful ponytail. My curls poofed out behind me. I didn't think the moist, salty air was going to help it much.

We ate our camp rations for breakfast, even though Percy protested that we might need them later. I was adamant that we not touch the ship's food. There was still something about the _Princess Andromeda_ that I couldn't quite place, something that I felt I knew, if only I could remember it. 

When we finally left the room to explore the ship, what we saw only confirmed my suspicions. We did see other people at last and they seemed to be mortal, but they acted like zombies. They wandered around with their eyes glazed over, speaking in monotones. Some even greeted us, but they seemed to look straight through us. 

I knew for sure they weren't right in the head when we arrived at the ship cafeteria and found the cruise passengers in line at the buffet, right next to a hellhound. I grabbed Percy's arm and pulled him back from the door. A hissing, reptilian voice came from around the corner and it suddenly clicked in my head where I'd heard about the _Princess Andromeda_. 

The _ketea_ on the Delaware River had talked about her, only I'd thought they meant an actual person then. In hindsight it seemed so obvious that they had been looking for a ship. 

_This_ ship. Which meant that it was probably full of monsters.

Had we walked right into a trap?

The monsters' voices in the corridor were getting louder. I looked around for a place to hide and my eyes fell on a door that was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and motioned for Percy and Tyson to follow me in. We shut the door just as the creatures slithered by and disappeared into the cafeteria. 

Why had the gods led us here? I'd been impressed with Hermes's generosity last night. Now I felt stupid. I should have remembered—no gift comes without a price.

But I could beat myself up for it later. 'We have to get out of here,' I said.

'You think I _want_ to be in the girls' restroom?'

I hadn't even noticed, but I realised Percy was right. Tyson was squashed up next to a toilet bowl and Percy leaned up against a marble sink with a vase of flowers by its side. Not that it mattered—the boys being in the wrong toilet was the least of our problems right now.

'I mean the ship, Percy! We have to get off the ship!'

Tyson agreed heartily, although I didn't see why he would be bothered by a ship full of monsters. It wasn't like they'd kill _him_.

I was about to open my mouth to tell them my plan—we could get back to the deck of lifeboats and try and hijack one—when I heard a voice I knew all too well on the other side of the door.

It became clear at once why Hermes had sent us here.

Luke was on the ship.

He was walking down the corridor with someone else, a man with a deep growl that I didn't recognise. Luke's companion said, 'I'm just saying, if this gamble doesn't pay off—'

Luke said in a cold, dangerous voice, 'It'll pay off! They'll take the bait.'

My hands felt like ice. I didn't know who 'they' was, but with Hermes's gifts and our being led to the ship, I felt like I had a pretty good idea. It felt like a punch in the gut.

'Now, come,' Luke continued. 'We've got to get to the admiralty suite and check on the casket.'

His voice faded away as he and his companions continued down the corridor. My insides churned. Well, we'd found Luke all right, but he was still plotting against us and I didn't know which side Hermes was really on. Kronos had gotten to Ares last year; I wasn't going to place any bets on whether he'd managed to plant ideas in the head of another god again.

Either way, the plan had changed. I met Percy's eyes and knew he had come to the same conclusion.

'We need to find out what Luke is up to,' I said grimly. 'And if possible, we're going to beat him up, bind him in chains and drag him to Mount Olympus.' I wanted answers—not just for what he was plotting, but why he'd done everything he had. If I had to get them by force, I would. 'You guys wait here. I'll go invisibly—'

'No way,' Percy said. 'We shouldn't split up. It's too dangerous.'

'But I'm the only one who can get around without being seen.'

'And if you run into trouble? How are we going to find you?'

'I'll be f—' I started to say, then I remembered how some of the monsters on my way up from Virginia had sniffed me out even in my invisibility hat. On an enclosed ship—which they probably knew better than me at this point—I wouldn't have many escape routes.

'Either we all go together, or nobody goes,' Percy said firmly.

Tyson raised his hand. 'Nobody!' he said. 'Please?'

'Okay,' I said, ignoring him. 'Fine. We stick together.' I glanced at Tyson, wishing we could at least leave him behind, but I was pretty sure Percy wouldn't go for it. 'You guys had better not get us caught, though.'

We snuck back along the corridors to our suite to grab our duffel bags. One good thing about Tyson—he was as strong as an ox. If we had to be travelling with a Cyclops, at least he could carry our bags easily. I scouted out the floor plan to figure out where the admiralty suite was. Deck thirteen—more stairs. Great.

It took a while to navigate the ship's corridors without bumping into any monsters (though at least we didn't have to worry about the glassy-eyed mortals identifying us as trespassers), but we made it up eventually. As we snuck towards the admiralty suite, ducking occasionally into closets and more restrooms to hide whenever we heard voices, I realised that not all the humans on the ship were enchanted mortals. Some of the voices I even recognised—Chris Rodriguez, one of Luke's old cabin-mates, passed us by, laughing about an Aethiopian drakon with another guy I figured must also be a demigod.

I thought of the _ketea_ headed for the _Princess Andromeda_ , talking about following the smell of demigods. There _were_ more of our kind on this ship, but it was all wrong. They were like Luke, working with the monsters. 

The world felt upside down. I wondered how many of the campers who hadn't come to camp this year might be on board this ship. Had they sent the monsters to harry us? Had one of them even been responsible for poisoning Thalia's tree?

'Come on.' Percy pulled me away from a glass window that looked down upon a training hall. A young demigod was practising swordplay on a dummy in the middle of a group of monsters: Scythian Dracaenae, Laistrygonians, and hellhounds. None of the monsters attacked the demigod; they even cheered when he destroyed the dummy.

Which was wearing a bright orange camp t-shirt.

My heart ached. Had Luke set all of this up? I burned with anger, as well as a desperate need to know _why_.

Tyson stopped us thirty feet away from a set of important-looking double doors at the end of the corridor. 'Voices inside,' he said warily.

'You can hear that far?' Percy said.

Tyson looked like he was concentrating. I wondered for a second what he was thinking of, then I realised what he was about to do a moment before he opened his mouth. My eyes widened in alarm.

'Don't—'

'The fools won't know which way to turn,' Tyson said in an exact imitation of Luke's voice.

I shuddered. It was exactly like how the Cyclops in Brooklyn and lured us in using each other's voices.

Tyson shifted voices, producing the grown of Luke's earlier companion: 'You really think the old horseman is gone for good?'

Then he was Luke again, laughing and saying, 'They can't trust him. Not with the skeletons in _his_ closet. The poisoning of the tree was the final straw.'

I started shivering uncontrollably, both from the memory of the other Cyclops and the words Tyson had just reproduced.

'Stop that, Tyson,' I begged. 'How do you even do that? It's creepy!'

I didn't know which was worse, hearing Luke's voice come out of Tyson's mouth, or realising that Luke was talking about Thalia's tree—he _knew_ it had been poisoned. 

It was freaking me out so much that I stopped paying attention to the rest of Tyson's imitated conversation, until Percy suddenly yelled, 'Run!'

It was too late, though. The doors opened and Luke stepped out and stared right at us. At his sides, like bodyguards, were two large men pointing bronze javelins at us. No, not men—giants. They weren't as big as the Laistrygonians, but they were at least two heads taller than Luke (who wasn't exactly short). Their arms were covered in coarse brown hairs like brush bristles.

Silently, I cursed Tyson for distracting me with his creepy imitations. If he'd just let us sneak up and eavesdrop normally, I'd have been more alert. 

Luke met my eyes and smiled, but it wasn't the warm, kind smile I remembered. He was as handsome as ever, but his eyes were different, as though the hard, jaded glint he'd gotten occasionally when he was feeling particularly bitter about something was now etched permanently in them. It made him look older, and crueller. 

'Well, if it isn't my two favourite cousins,' he said smoothly. 'Come right in.' On the surface, his voice held the same welcoming tone that he always used with new campers, but there was no substance to it. I couldn't hear any trace of the Luke I loved in that voice.

There wasn't much of a choice. The javelin-wielding giants poked us in the back as Luke ushered us into the admiralty suite. It was a stately room with full-length windows overlooking the wide sea stretching out behind the ship. I could see our wake trailing in the water as we chugged along. The rest of the room was elegantly furnished and decorated, but I barely noticed it, my eyes being drawn to the central object that dominated the rest of the décor: the golden sarcophagus with the images of death and destruction that I'd seen in my dream.

Luke offered us a seat and introduced his giants—Agrius and Oreius, the sons of Polyphonte. I knew the story. _Luke_ had told me the story long ago. Their mother had been one of the Huntresses of Artemis, a band of girls who had sworn to be eternal maidens, but Aphrodite had enchanted her into falling in love with a bear and giving birth to the bear twins standing in front of us now. Agrius and Oreius bickered and sneered while Luke related this story to Percy.

'Well, Percy,' he said when he had finished the tale. 'We let you survive another year. I hope you appreciated it. How's your mom? How's school?' He lounged on a sofa, putting his feet up and surveying us as though we were just having a pleasant chat.

'You poisoned Thalia's tree,' Percy accused.

'Right to the point, eh? Okay, sure I poisoned the tree. So what?'

I gasped. I know Percy had maintained all along that the poisoning was Luke's work, but until I actually heard it coming from Luke's mouth, the casual admittance that he'd done it …

I hadn't really believed he could have betrayed Thalia like that. Anger flared up in me, hot and explosive. At that moment, all though of saving him went out the window. 

'How could you? Thalia saved your life! _Our_ lives! How could you dishonour her—'

Luke sat up sharply, his eyes flashing suddenly with anger. 'I didn't dishonour her! The gods dishonoured her, Annabeth! If Thalia were alive, she'd be on my side.'

After he'd jabbed a load of poison into her, I highly doubted that. 'Liar!'

'If you knew what was coming, you'd understand—' Luke tried to say in a placating tone, but I no longer wanted to hear his justification. My rage was hot and blinding, like a million sharp knives I wanted to fling. I felt like my bronze dagger was humming at my side, itching to fly at Luke, the traitor, as well.

'I understand you want to destroy the camp! You're a monster!'

'The gods have blinded you,' Luke said. He spun his ideas: a world without the gods, free of their three thousand years of influence. The fervour he put into his words scared me. His eyes glowed like a megalomaniac's. 'We can start the world anew. We could use your intelligence, Annabeth.'

'Because you have none of your own!' I spat.

Luke shook his head. 'I know you, Annabeth. You deserve better than tagging along on some hopeless quest to save the camp. Half-Blood Hill will be overrun by monsters within the month. The heroes who survive will have no choice to join us or be hunted to extinction. You really want to be on a losing team?'

I glared at him, still holding fast to my anger. Part of me felt like crying to hear him talk that way about camp, but as long as I stayed angry, I wouldn't have to think about the attacks, or whether he would have me hunted down, too. As long as I stayed angry, I could keep form breaking down.

Then Luke gestured towards Tyson. 'A team with company like this?' he said archly. 'Travelling with a _Cyclops_. Talk about dishonouring Thalia's memory!'

There were plenty of comebacks I should have been able to throw at him—like the fact that _he_ was commandeering an entire ship full of monsters—but I felt like he'd hit me in the stomach with a bowling ball, knocking the anger out of me like wind from a balloon. All I could think of suddenly was how _wrong_ it all was—Luke poisoning Thalia, demigods setting monsters on camp … me questing with a Cyclops was just one more straw to add to this topsy-turvy mess.

'I'm surprised at you, Annabeth, you of all people—'

'Stop it!' My eyes stung. I covered my eyes with my hands, afraid I was going to start crying.

I felt Percy step in front of me to argue with Luke. My ears were ringing so hard, I couldn't hear what they were saying.

Then Tyson smashed a chair into splinters next to me and charged forward. 

I stepped between him and Luke. It was an instinct—one I was immediately ashamed of, the compulsion to defend him so strong despite everything. I knew it was only because we'd been friends for years and I had loved him, but I felt like a traitor to camp, too, the moment I stepped forward.

At least no one saw it, as the bear twins stepped right in and tackled Tyson before he could get within two feet of Luke.

Luke sneered. 'Too bad, Cyclops. Looks like my grizzly friends together are more than a match for your strength. Maybe I should—'

Percy jumped in quickly, trying to talk Luke down. But he picked the worst argument he could make: he told him Hermes had sent us. The moment he mentioned the god's name, Luke's face contorted with rage. 

I could have told him it was a mistake to mention Luke's father. As long as I'd known Luke, he'd always been bitter about Hermes. And if Luke could turn against Thalia, how could he possibly care about a father he'd hated to begin with?

'I want Olympus destroyed!' Luke yelled, his calm facade shattering. He was so incensed that spittle flew from his mouth with every word. 'Every throne crushed to rubble! You tell Hermes it's going to happen, too. Each time a half-blood joins us, the Olympians grow weaker and we grow stronger. _He_ grows stronger.' Luke indicated the sarcophagus and I felt like my insides had just turned to ice. I remembered my dream, how Luke had spoken to the sarcophagus. I hadn't really understood what I was seeing then, but it all made sense now. The images on the casket, the cold, magical glow that emanated from it …

'He is re-forming,' Luke confirmed. 'Little by little, we're calling his life force out of the pit. With every recruit who pledges our cause, another small piece appears …'

I felt like I was going to be sick. 'That's disgusting.'

' _Your_ mother was born from Zeus's split skull, Annabeth,' Luke shot back at me. 'I wouldn't talk. Soon there will be enough of the Titan lord so that we can make him whole again. We will piece together a new body for him, a work worthy of the forges of Hephaestus.' His eyes regained that maniacal glow that filled me with equal parts terror and sorrow.

'You're insane,' I whispered.

'Join us and you'll be rewarded.' Luke's voice turned gentler, more beguiling, more like he used to sound, yet also not quite. It was almost as if someone, something else, was speaking through him. He laid out the promise of riches, the dreams I'd always had. He knew me—he knew what I wanted. For a moment, the future he was promising shone brightly in front of me: I'd be the most famous architect in the world, the designer of monuments that would last a thousand years. 

And then his next words brought me crashing back to reality: 'A temple to the lords of the next age!'

He meant the Titans. And I knew well enough that they _didn't_ build anything, only tore it down, as the pictures on Kronos's casket showed. Luke was spinning these bare-faced lies like he believed them, or worse, Kronos was speaking through him. His offer to recruit us was somehow more painful than his wanting to kill us moments before.

I told him to go to Tartarus, though I wasn't sure if I was addressing Luke or Kronos.

'A shame,' Luke said, and he called for a pair of glassy-eyed security guards to take us away. He looked for a moment like he was considering something, then he glanced at Oreius. 'It's time to feed the Aethiopian drakon. Take these fools below and show them how it's done.'

'Let me go, too,' Agrius said, but Luke shook his head and refused him.

Oreius giggled madly and marched Tyson out first. One security guard prodded Percy along, and then it was just me, giving Luke one last desperate look. I thought I saw a shadow of doubt flicker across his face. 

'You should have stayed in Virginia,' Luke said, so softly that I couldn't be sure if I was imagining it. Then he turned determinedly away from me to Agrius. 'There are matters you don't understand,' he said to the giant. 'The serving of the Titan lord requires finesse, and intelligence. There is another way to bypass the slow reforming process. I'm gambling on it …'

I didn't hear what it was he was gambling, though. The guards marched us down the corridor, Oreius leading with a hand on Tyson's shoulder and his javelin poking into Percy's back. I forced myself to put my swirling emotions about Luke aside and think. Two guards, one bear twin. Taking the guards out was certainly possible, and Percy could maybe manipulate the water around the ship to help fight Oreius, but we still needed a way off the boat.

We emerged onto ta deck and I thought … well, Percy could breathe underwater, and probably Tyson, so if they could jump off, I could hide under my invisibility cap …

Percy jumped the gun on the fight, however. Without warning, he shouted, 'Now!' and Tyson attacked Oreius. 

For a totally unplanned attack, it seemed almost too easy, especially once Tyson took out the giant. I went after one of the mortal guards and with a well-placed kick to the crotch, he doubled over in pain. Percy didn't react quick enough to get the other, though—ironically, since _he'd_ given the signal—and the guard hit an alarm.

'Lifeboat!' Percy cried. 

The deck was lined with them: rows of rubber dinghies tied to the walls with thick canvas covers over them. I fumbled with the knots but my fingers were slow and stupid. I cursed under my breath, wishing again that this quest wasn't a seafaring one. Monsters and guards swarmed onto the deck. Tyson grabbed a fire extinguisher and flung it at them. It exploded in a cloud of white smoke.

'Get in!' Percy ordered. He had uncapped his sword. We clambered into the lifeboat. 'Hold on!' he yelled, and slashed through the ropes holding us to the deck.

The lifeboat plummeted downwards like a rock. I grabbed the nearest handhold and screamed. 

I had to admire Percy's ability to think on his feet. In a stroke of brilliance, he commandeered the flask of wind that Hermes had given him. As soon as we hit the water, the air erupted from the flask and we zoomed off at what felt like a hundred miles an hour. My fingers were barely strong enough to grip the straps of the lifeboat. If not for Tyson's grip on my shirt, holding me in, I might have gone flying out.

The winds shot us forward and we went skimming over the ocean, leaving Luke and the _Princess Andromeda_ far behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter draws heavily from canon, but I hope it doesn't come across as too repetitive! Let me know what you think—I love to hear from my readers!


	13. Tyson Buys Some Dangerous Doughnuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth takes Percy and Tyson to an old hideout, where they run into a nest.

As soon as the cruise ship was well out of sight, Percy turned down the cap of the flask a little so that we were still speeding along, but at a pace less likely to give us whiplash. The winds were noisy and we had to yell to hear each other over them, but we did our best to compare notes on what we'd heard on board the _Princess Andromeda_.

'Luke knows where to find the Fleece, too,' Percy said. 'We're probably going to be racing him to it, now. And he's got a better ship.'

'How would he know, though?'

'Didn't you hear him? He had a spy at camp!'

It was the part of their conversation I'd missed, and I cursed myself for letting Luke get to me.

'Spy is bad,' Tyson said. 'Must warn camp.'

I didn't like to agree with him, but he was right. Who would we warn, though? I couldn't see us telling Tantalus—like he'd even care—and Mr D was probably just as bad. We had no solid camp leader. I might have considered Clarisse, but of course she would have left for her quest by now.

'Maybe Beckendorf …' I suggested, but I didn't know if I trusted him enough. We had no idea who Luke's spy was. Even though I didn't think it was Beckendorf, I really couldn't know. Anyone we contacted could end up being the spy. The list of people I trusted implicitly in this world was depressingly short: Chiron, Percy …

_Luke_ , whispered a voice in my head. I shut it up. Last year, he would have been the first person on my list, but he had just betrayed us and tried to kill us _again_.

'Let's try and contact Chiron anyway,' I said. 'Even if he's not at camp, maybe he'll have some ideas.'

The good thing about being on water was that there was plenty of spray for a rainbow. All we needed to do was throw in one of the drachmas Hermes had given us and make our prayer to Iris. 

Chiron appeared in the sea spray, his face illuminated at intervals by revolving neon lights that changed colour every few seconds. I guessed he had to be hanging out with his crazy relatives. I'd only met them once, when they hijacked camp four years ago to hold a dance. 

Chiron had to shout our names over the heavy bass beat in the background. 'Where are you—not at camp?' Between the noisy music on his end and the roaring wind on ours, it was hard for either of us to make ourselves heard.

'We left,' Percy shouted over the noise. 'Hermes gave us a quest and we snuck out. We just found Luke—he _did_ poison Thalia's tree, and he's growing Kronos in a golden casket. We only just got away.'

'And he's got a spy at camp,' I interjected with the most important point. 'We don't know how to warn them, though.'

'I feared as much! And I'm afraid I can't—' The sound of his next few words was drowned out by hoots from his fellow centaurs. 'Where are you now?'

'Somewhere off the Jersey coast, I think,' Percy said. 'We're trying to get to the Sea of Monsters. That's where Grove is, and the Golden Fleece!'

'Percy, you have to watch out for—' The centaurs in the background whooped again. 'Curse my relatives!' Something went flying over Chiron's head. 'Annabeth, you shouldn't have let Percy leave camp! But if you _do_ get the Fleece—' He was interrupted again by centaur cheers and a dramatic increase in the volume of the music. I could tell he was yelling at the top of the voice now, but all we could hear from him were individual words: 'Miami,' 'watch,' 'message,' and then the image burst apart.

'Pony, don't go!' Tyson said dejectedly, reaching out to where Chiron's face had been. The sea spray hit his hand and showered over us. I wiped my face and glared at him. 

'Miami,' I said to Percy. 'That's in Florida. Do you think he means that's where the Fleece is?'

'Well, we already know where it is,' Percy reminded me. 'Thirty-two, thirty, seventy-five, twelve. What do you think he meant, when he said to watch out for … something?'

'It could be anything. There's so many things we'll have to face—Polyphemus, for starters. But just getting to the Sea of Monsters will be difficult. There are only two known entrances: it's either SCylla and Charybdis or—'

'What's that? Or should that be who?'

'Scylla and Charybdis,' I repeated, rolling my eyes. 'They're—well, you know that saying, "between a rock and a hard place?" That's literally what they are. Charybdis is a whirlpool that sucks everything in and eats it, and Scylla is this monster on a rock cliff that snatches sailors out of boats and eats them.'

'Great,' Percy said. 'So our options are "how do we want to get eaten?" How did anyone ever get to the Sea of Monsters with them guarding the entrance?'

'There's another way, the one Jason took. Through the clashing rocks.'

'Rocks are smashing?' Tyson asked.

'It clashes at regular intervals.' I told them the story of how Jason and the Argonauts had tested the rocks with a dove, timing its flight through so that they knew how quickly they would have to row their way across. 'As long as we time it right, we can get past. We have the flask—we should be able to power through, I think.'

'Okay, let's do that,' Percy nodded. 'That doesn't sound too bad.'

'Once we're in,' I warned, 'it's still full of dangers. I don't know about everything, but there's the island of the Sirens, and the Cretan Labyrinth—you know, the home of the Minotaur—should be somewhere in there, too.'

Percy made a face. 'Can we just _not_ land there? I already fought the Minotaur once.'

'It's probably still in Tartarus,' I agreed, 'but the Labyrinth is deadly enough without it. A lot of heroes were driven crazy just trying to find their way out. I don't know if it stayed in the Sea of Monsters or if it migrated elsewhere, though. Anyway, we can avoid that, but we'll have to be careful with the Sirens, because they can draw you in with their singing.'

I recounted as many of the dangerous spots that I could recall, but I knew I had to be missing a lot. There were scores of tales from the Sea of Monsters—Jason, and also Odysseus, and Aeneas … like I'd told Percy before, all the ancient Greek heroes had sailed through it. There were too many stories to remember them all. We might meet with any one of them.

Land started to come into sight after I'd exhausted all the stories I knew. I watched the coastline speed past for a while before I realised I recognised the shoreline. It was dotted with hotels and resorts and I'd actually spent some time there at spring break with my dad and stepfamily. It looked different from the sea, but there was the unmistakeable lighthouse off Fort Story.

'That's Virginia Beach!' I said, amazed. It had taken me days to get up to New York when I left Richmond, but overnight, I'd already gone past my home. It was a little surreal. 'How did the _Princess Andromeda_ travel so far overnight? That's like—'

'Five hundred and thirty nautical miles,' Percy supplied.

'How did you know that?'

Percy looked bemused, as though he had no idea where he'd pulled the numbers from. 'I—I'm not sure.'

An idea started to grow in my head. 'Percy, what's our position?'

He replied as though on autopilot, 'Thirty-six degrees, forty-four minutes north, seventy-six degrees, two minutes west.' His eyes grew wide. 'Whoa. How did I know that?'

Perfect nautical positioning. It had to be a power from Poseidon. 'Because of your dad,' I told him, already thinking of how useful this would be. 'When you're at sea, you have perfect bearings. That is _so_ cool.' If we could just get our hands on a map, we'd know our position instantly. We'd be able to navigate easily to wherever we needed to go!

Tyson tapped Percy's shoulder to get his attention. 'Other boat is coming.'

We both turned to see a coastguard speedboat charging up to us, flashing its light like a cop car giving chase.

Percy groaned. 'We can't let them catch us. They'll ask too many questions.'

We were right at the entrance to Chesapeake Bay. If we turned in and hugged the coast, it should take us right up the James River. Where Luke and Thalia had brought me, the night after I'd met them.

'I know a place we can hide,' I said.

Percy adjusted the flask so that we put on a bit more speed, enough to outpace the coastguard vessel. I directed him into Chesapeake Bay and left into the James River. I hoped I could still find the place—it had been six years, after all—but I had the faint memory from my dream several nights ago to help as well. Once we got further upriver, the foliage began to look familiar. It was in a swampy, overgrown marsh, the kind of natural preserve that doesn't change much over the years. We beached the lifeboat and camouflaged it with branches.

'Not a good place,' Tyson complained, but I ignored him. What did he know, anyway?

I led them through the brush, the memory of traversing this ground with Thalia and Luke becoming clearer. It had been my second day travelling with them; the night before they had found me hiding out in an ironworks compound. Luke had given me his dagger—the same one that weighed heavily in my pocket now. They'd told me about their life as we walked, about moving from hideout to hideout because it wasn't wise to stay in one place too long—monsters tended to find them easier that way because their scent built up. They'd created a network that they moved around.

Fortunately, the hideout was exactly where we'd left it all those years ago. It was so well hidden that no one had found it in all this time. Our supplies were still stacked up against one of the walls: sleeping bags, blankets, kerosene lamps and a stash of bronze. It was all gear that Luke and Thalia had stolen during their years on the run. 

I explained to Percy about the safe houses. Talking about it made me sad. It was reminding me of what I'd felt on the _Princess Andromeda_ —the despair at how everything had gone wrong, with Thalia gone and Luke betraying us. I remembered Luke promising he'd be my family, and now the three of us were all broken up.

Did Luke ever think about our time together? Probably not. He had all the riches and rewards he could dream of, and a life of luxury on his cruise ship. No need to fear monsters either, when they were following his direction. 

He was so different.

And maybe I didn't want the current Luke to think about us. Because I couldn't think how he could possibly remember what we'd been and still do everything he was doing now.

'Um, Tyson?' Percy said quietly. He murmured something to him, attempting to send him off quietly. I only noticed because Tyson was loud about leaving. 

'I will look for powdered doughnuts in the wilderness,' he announced. It was a declaration so absurd that I didn't even try to understand what he was getting at.

'Hey,' Percy said, taking a seat on an ice chest opposite me. 'I'm sorry about, you know, seeing Luke.'

I pulled out my dagger and looked into it, feeling the same conflict about it as I'd had at the start of summer. My trusty weapon was tainted. 

I sighed. 'It's not your fault.'

'He let us go too easily.'

I rubbed at the blade with a rag from Thalia's collection—as though betrayal was a stain I could erase—and forced myself to think strategically. I couldn't race Luke to the Fleece while lost in sad memories about what we'd been to each other. Percy was right; the fight to escape the cruise ship _had_ gone a bit too smoothly.

I tried to put together the various pieces in my head, like sorting a jigsaw of information. My last glimpse of Luke with his brow furrowed, thinking hard. What I'd heard him say about gambling on another way to help the Titan lord reform. The stuff we'd overheard in the corridor, about bait. I'd thought it meant enticing us onto the ship, but what if there was more to it? If he'd let us go because he needed something else from us? Something that would help Kronos?

I shared all this with Percy.

'The Fleece is the bait?' Percy suggested. 'Or Grover?'

My knife glowed. I'd polished it so hard I could see my own wavering image reflecting back at me. 'I don't know, Percy. Maybe … he wants the Fleece for himself. Maybe he's hoping we'll do the hard work and then he can steal it from us.' It was unthinkable that Luke could have captured Grover and held him at the mercy of a Cyclops after what we'd all been through together, but then he'd already admitted to even more unspeakable things. 'I just can't believe he would poison the tree.'

Percy studied me carefully. He said, slowly, 'What did he mean that Thalia would've been on his side?'

'He's wrong,' I said automatically, although doubt flickered momentarily across my mind. 

'You don't sound sure.'

In my head, I pictured the two of them standing side by side, a solid team. _Would_ Thalia have stuck with Luke?

No. I pulled up more memories of Thalia: the way she'd used to deflect Luke's bitter asides about the gods with jokes—very much like Percy, actually. I think that was partly why his irreverence towards the gods annoyed me sometimes. It made me miss Thalia more.

'Percy, you know who you remind me of most?' I said. ' _Thalia_.' A more recent memory popped into my head, of the night Percy had shown up at Camp Half-Blood, wet and exhausted but somehow still crackling with energy. He'd put me in mind of Thalia then, and he still reminded me of her now: his dry sense of humour, his reckless courage, and most of all, his loyalty to his friends. 'You guys are so much alike, it's scary. I mean, either you would've been best friends or you would've strangled each other.'

'Er, let's go with "best friends."'

I fixed him with a searching look. 'Thalia got angry with her dad sometimes. So do you. Would _you_ turn against Olympus because of that?'

Percy hesitated, then said firmly, 'No.'

'Okay, then,' I said, though I felt like I was trying to convince myself, too. 'Neither would she. Luke's wrong.' I hoped so, anyway. I couldn't help wondering—Thalia _was_ incredibly loyal, but if her friends were on two different sides, who would she be loyal to: me or Luke?

'So what did Luke mean about Cyclopes? He said you of all people—'

'I know what he said,' I said before Percy could repeat the hurtful words. 'He …' I took a deep breath. 'He was talking about the _real_ reason Thalia died.'

I was about to tell him the story of the Cyclops in Brooklyn when Tyson burst in with a box of doughnuts held triumphantly in his hands.

'Where did you get that?' I demanded, immediately suspicious. 'We're in the middle of the wilderness. There's nothing around for—'

Tyson shook his head and said, 'Fifty feet. Monster Doughnut shop—just over the hill!'

My blood ran cold. I thought of Tyler Ichiro and his Sushi Monster franchise in the middle of the woods on the banks of the Delaware.

'Seriously?' Percy stuck his head out of the hideout door. 'Oh my gods, Annabeth, look!'

We ventured out to check. It was indeed a brand new doughnut shop, standing out in sharp contrast to the dank wetness of the surrounding swamp.

'This is bad. There shouldn't be _anything_ out here.' And it definitely had _not_ been here when we'd arrived. The shop had someone sitting inside at the cash register, but I got the sense that he wasn't the proprietor. Was it another demigod like Ichiro? Something told me that was wrong, though. The back of my neck prickled like I had gotten goosebumps.

Percy shrugged it off. 'It's a doughnut shop. And why are we whispering? Tyson went in and bought a dozen. Nothing happened to him.' He pointed to Tyson, whose mouth was ringed with powdered sugar.

That was it, I thought. Monsters. Ichiro had mentioned that the demigods who had used real Hydras to expand their franchises had ended up with the monsters taking over and nesting in new areas.

Tyson was a monster. He'd have no problem walking into a monster-run business.

Percy protested when I pointed this out. 'Monster Doughnuts doesn't mean monsters! It's a chain. We've got them in New York.'

'A chain.' Even if he didn't know about the monster-powered franchise business, I couldn't believe he didn't see anything weird about a chain store appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the woods. 'Listen,' I said, and I explained what I'd learned from Ichiro about monster life forces powering the expansion of chain stores across the States since the fifties. I was about to tell him about the Hydras that had taken over businesses when I spotted it.

It was creeping through the trees behind Percy, ten times the size of Kaiju the bonsai Hydra.

'No sudden moves,' I hissed at Percy. 'Very slowly, turn around.'

He did, and I saw his jaw drop at the sight of the full Hydra: a large round belly on stubby legs, with about seven heads sprouting from writhing snaky necks. _That's plenty of Monster Doughnut outlets_ , I thought. 

A flash of bright yellow caught my eye. The monster had one of our duffel bags. I felt a sharp pang as I realised it must have found our camp. Our hideout, which had stood preserved for so long, had been invaded, just like that.

_Snap_. The crack of the twig was like a gunshot. The Hydra's heads swivelled round sharply.

It was Tyson who had stumbled, and I felt a surge of annoyance at him. First he'd gone and found the monster—probably leading it straight to our hideout—and now he'd attracted its attention. If I hadn't known how clumsy and stupid he was, I'd have sworn he'd been planning it all, like some complicated strategy to lead us to our deaths. The look of frozen terror on his face told a different story, though.

The Hydra's middle head reared back. It made a gurgling noise, like it was working up phlegm in its throat.

'Scatter!' I said, anticipating what was about to happen. Percy and I darted out of the way of a jet of steaming acid. It was a full spray, unlike Kaiju's tiny shots. This was a fully-grown Hydra with industrial strength acid. It hit a tree, which sizzled and collapsed. 

'Tyson!' Percy yelled. Tyson hadn't moved; he was still staring at the Hydra with abject terror in his eye. 

The thought crossed my mind that if the Hydra focused on Tyson, Percy and I could escape. I was immediately ashamed of it. Annoyed as I was with Tyson, the idea of sacrificing a team member in cold blood, Cyclops or not, was abhorrent. Maybe I'd wanted to ditch him, but not like _this_.

Percy leapt into action, pushing Tyson out of the way of the falling tree and the lunging Hydra heads. My heart nearly stopped when I saw him draw his sword, grabbing the attention of all seven heads. He swung it up before I could shout out a warning. The nearest Hydra head was sliced neatly off by the celestial bronze. Percy's eyes flared with triumph that died instantly when the decapitated neck split into two and regenerated. There wasn't even a grace period—just _schloop_ , two new heads. No wonder Ichiro said that the original Hydras could get the franchises growing much quicker.

' _Di immortales_ , Percy, ' I groaned. I imagined another Monster Doughnut shop sprouting up somewhere, drawing in more innocent half-bloods.

'I'm about to die and you're worried about _that_?' Percy said. 'How do we kill it?'

'Fire,' I told him, remembering how Kaiju had run from the _ketea_ 's flaming breath. That was how Heracles had battled the first ancient Hydra, too, burning the stumps before they could grow back. 'We have to have fire!'

_The kerosene lamps_ , I thought. _In the hideout_. But we had to get past the Hydra to get to them.

We split up again, trying to distract the heads. One came at me with its gleaming teeth bared. I just managed to block it with my knife. Another neck slammed into my back and I flew five feet into the wet marsh. I rolled and got to my feet as quickly as I could, but suddenly there was Tyson standing in front of me. He'd gotten between me and the Hydra, and to my amazement, he smacked the Hydra's head with his bare fists. 

'No hitting my friends!' he shouted, as he slammed them like a pro boxer. I thought the monster actually looked a little stunned to find itself being used as a Cyclops's punching bag.

He was pretty effective, too, keeping at least four heads occupied so that Percy and I only had to worry about the remaining four spitting acid and trying to eat us.

I was wondering how long we'd be able to keep this up when a rhythmic pounding noise rose above the hissing and spitting of the Hydra.

'What's that noise?' I yelled.

'Steam engine,' Tyson said, though how he could work that out while pounding Hydra heads as beyond me.

Then I heard a girl's voice that I knew well: 'There! Prepare the thirty-two pounder!'

I barely had time to wonder how she had made it so far south so quickly, or what she was doing here, of all places. The next thing she said was, 'Damn the heroes—full steam ahead!' and I knew we had to duck.

'Hit the dirt!' I yelled.

True to form, a sonic boom deafened us, accompanied by a light almost as blinding as a god's true form. The Hydra exploded, blown into disgusting neon-green guts that vaporised (though not before landing all over us), leaving the single severed head Percy had cut off earlier lying in the swamp.

My mind wondered, off task, if this meant the Monster Doughnut franchise would collapse.

I didn't dwell on it. The smoke from the blast was clearing and behind it, a steam ship that could have sailed straight out of my dad's military history books was chugging upriver towards us. On the deck, right up next to a smoking cannon, with her hands on her hips, was Clarisse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this chapter, it occurred to me how many plot holes there could be in canon. Such as how Polyphemus caught Grover on a boulevard in Florida when he supposedly lives on his island and doesn't appear to leave it. While I haven't actually figured that one out (fortunately it doesn't affect my plot too much), I hope I've managed to make sense of others … like where Annabeth gets half her info and the mystery of Luke's motivations. Let me know what you think!


	14. We Do A Cabin Crawl With Dead People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarisse picks up Annabeth, Percy, and Tyson, and take them on board the CSS _Birmingham_.

Clarisse looked ready for capture the flag, dressed as she was in full Greek battle gear, complete with her red-plumed helmet. Except beneath her gleaming bronze breastplate, she wore a loose tunic and animal-skin breeches that could have come out of _Pirates of the Carribean_. Instead of her usual spear, she carried a three-foot carbine rifle with a leather cover over the barrel. She was surrounded by skeletons in army uniforms—confederate soldier uniforms, to be exact. They moved efficiently about the ship like a well-trained crew. 

I looked around for her companions, but if there was anyone else alive on this ship besides Clarisse, they were well-hidden.

Clarisse pulled off her helmet and tucked it under one arm. She invited us on board, sneering and calling us losers, but underneath her arrogant words, she actually sounded glad to see us. 

I guess I could understand that. If I'd been alone on a ship full of zombies, I'd have been glad for human company, too.

The zombie sailors didn't seem so bad, though, if you could get past the creepiness of the glowing green eyes staring at you out of hollow sockets. Up close, I saw that they did have faces, but they were transparent, ghostly images that hovered insubstantially in front of their skulls. Clarisse did the introductions, her nose wrinkling when she said Percy's name. The crew muttered excitedly when they heard it.

'Jackson?' one of them said. 'Any relation to General Stonewall Jackson?'

'Er, no,' Percy said. 'I don't think so, anyway. I'm from New York.'

The mood of the sailors changed in an instant, excitement turning to seething resentment. 

'Yankee,' one of them hissed.

I cut in quickly, shoving my Yankees cap deeper into my pocket and flashing Percy a warning look. ' _I'm_ from Virginia,' I told them.

They liked that better.

'Where from, m'lady?' asked the first mate.

'Richmond.'

There was a general murmur of approval. One of the skeletons clapped me on the back. It felt like being prodded with a stick. 

'We died in the defence of Richmond,' the first mate explained. He stared on a long spiel about the Civil War, some of which I was able to follow, based on what I knew of my dad's research on military war history.

Clarisse grew bored of the subject quickly. 'How about a tour of the ship?'

'Er, that's okay,' Percy said, but she glared at him.

'Tour,' she repeated. 'Let's go.' 

She proudly pointed out all the fancy trappings on the deck, from the refitted cannons with new celestial bronze balls to the array of guns—pivot guns affixed at the bow and broadside guns that could shift along both sides of the ship. I didn't understand half the terminology, but I thought my dad would probably have appreciated it. Clarisse boasted happily about all of it. She clearly enjoyed showing off what she'd gotten.

'I flew in to Virginia to pick up the ship this morning,' she explained as she led us past dark crew quarters. They were closet-sized rooms with bunks so small, Tyson would have had to double over just to fit in one. A few of the ghostly crew members followed us, piping up helpfully from time to time about displacements and horsepower and other battleship trivia that made no sense at all to any of us (including Clarisse, I bet). Tyson was jittery around them. When we descended below deck, he inched closer to me. 

'Scared,' he muttered, and grabbed my hand like a kindergartener clinging to his mom on the first day of school. His big, clammy hand gave me the chills. I would have pulled away, but I remembered how he'd jumped between me and the Hydra. I decided I owed him one. Still, touring an ancient warship manned by zombies while holding the hand of a Cyclops definitely wasn't on my list of top ten things to do. 

A random thought flitted across my head that maybe, if it were _Percy's_ hand I was holding instead …

I blinked and waved it away, glad that it was dim in the engine room so no one could see my sudden blush. 

Tyson finally let go of my hand when Clarisse showed us the boiler room. He became so excited about the machinery in there that he forgot to be scared of the undead sailors.

We finished up with dinner in the captain's quarters. It wasn't precisely a proper meal, more like Clarisse's idea of one: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, chips, and Dr Peppers. Food was food, though, and whatever I felt about her, I trusted Clarisse at least not to poison us.

Clarisse surveyed us smugly over her bottle of Dr Pepper. 

'You are in so much trouble,' she said cheerfully. She was in an excellent mood after getting to show off her big new toy. 'Tantalus expelled you for eternity. Mr D said if any of you show your face at camp again, he'll turn you into squirrels and run you over with his SUV.'

'Did _they_ give you this ship?' Percy asked.

'Course not. My father did.'

' _Ares_?'

Clarisse looked affronted by his scepticism, a bit like when I'd doubted her dedication to camp. 'You think your daddy is the only one with sea power? The spirits on the losing side of every war owe a tribute to Ares. That's their curse for being defeated. I prayed to my father for a naval transport and here it is. These guys will do anything I tell them.' She turned to her zombie captain with a steely glint in her eyes. 'Won't you, captain?'

Something in her tone reminded me of the way Luke had spoken to us, as well as to his henchmen: a touch of haughtiness, like they were savouring the experience of being in charge. I wondered if maybe captaining a ship just gave people a sense of power. 

At least I could be fairly certain that Clarisse, unlike Luke, wasn't going to kill us. Since we'd found her, we might as well continue the quest together, especially since she didn't appear to have any companions—human ones, that is. And it was only fair to warn her what we were up against.

'Clarisse, Luke might be after the Fleece, too,' I said. 'We saw him. He's got the co-ordinates and he's heading south. He has a cruise ship full of monsters—'

'Good! I'll blow him out of the water.' It was such a typical Ares response. 

'You don't understand. We have to combine forces. Let us help you—'

'No! This is _my_ quest, smart girl!' Clarisse's eyes flashed dangerously. 'Finally _I_ get to be the hero, and you two will _not_ steal my chance.'

I ground my teeth in frustration. This quest was no longer about who succeeded—not when the existence of camp itself was at stake. I felt a little stab of worry, though. Clarisse's desire to be the hero wasn't terribly different from the way Luke spoke about being the one to tear down Olympus and rebuild the world. And I had to admit, I was guilty of that same thirst for glory myself. I'd wanted to lead this quest instead of Clarisse, after all. For years I had hungered to be given a quest, and if I were completely honest about it, that desire wasn't entirely altruistic. 

It was perhaps the fatal flaw of all demigods. We all wanted to prove ourselves to be the greatest and the best. 

Kronos played on this hunger. It was probably how he had corrupted Luke and all the other demigods who had defected to his side. It scared me that we might all be just as susceptible.

'Where are your cabin mates?' Percy asked. 'You were allowed to take two friends with you, weren't you?'

'They didn't …' Clarisse grimaced. 'I let them stay behind,' she corrected herself. 'To protect the camp.'

'You mean even the people in your own cabin wouldn't help you?'

It was definitely the wrong thing to say. Clarisse flared up, jumping to her feet with her fists balled. 'Shut up, Prissy! I don't need them! Or you!'

Percy tried to backtrack. 'Clarisse, Tantalus is using you. He doesn't care about the camp. He'd love to see it destroyed. He's setting you up to fail.'

'No! I don't care what the Oracle—' Her eyes widened, as though she'd realised she'd said too much.

'What? What did the Oracle tell you?'

'Nothing,' Clarisse said quickly. 'All you need to know is that I'm finishing this quest and you're _not_ helping. On the other hand, I can't let you go …'

I frowned at her. 'So we're prisoners?'

Clarisse thought about this. 'Guests,' she conceded. She sat back down and opened herself another bottle of Dr Pepper. 'For now.' She waved her hand and summoned the Confederate captain to take us to the berth deck. When I looked back at her before leaving her quarters, she was frowning hard at her drink. The look on her face gave me an eerie sense of déjà-vu.

I wondered what her prophecy from the Oracle had been, and if it had anything to do with why no one had wanted to join her, or why she was so adamant against our help. 

The captain brought us one floor down, where the berth deck turned out to be a large room with rows of hammocks strung from end to end. 

'Pick any you like,' he said. 

'Are the rest for the crew?' Percy asked.

'Well, yes and no. They were, originally, but we don't sleep any more.'

I wondered why, if the crew didn't sleep, we couldn't have one of the other tiny bunks we'd seen on our tour earlier. Then I looked at Tyson. He definitely wouldn't have fit in those quarters. As it was, we were probably going to have to string several hammocks together for him.

Tyson didn't seem to be considering any of this. He just looked relieved that he wasn't going to be sharing a room with a bunch of zombie sailors.

'Come on, big guy,' Percy said, and they got to work putting together a larger hammock for Tyson. They dug into Tyson's duffel bag, where he had an oilcloth wrapped around a bunch of tools and bits. We'd lost one bag—Percy's—to the Hydra, but we'd managed to retrieve the other two before boarding the ship.

I let them get on with it. Maybe tomorrow I'd be able to talk to Clarisse and try again to convince her into accepting our help. I knew she did care about the camp. Maybe I could reason with her when Percy wasn't there to rub her the wrong way. In the meantime, at least she hadn't thrown us off the ship or imprisoned us outright. We were still travelling together and heading south overnight. That was a plus.

I got into my hammock and settled in for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is kind of short and not much happens, but it didn't really fit on the previous or the next chapters, so here it is as a stand-alone. Plus, I was enjoying geeking out about the battleship. I am actually a sailor, but not a navy one, so I had to research quite a bit to give the ship tour. I based the design for Clarisse's CSS _Birmingham_ off the [CSS _Virginia_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CSS_Virginia), and a diagram of it found [here](http://forum.worldofwarships.eu/index.php?/topic/758-css-virginia/). Clarisse's rifle is a [Sharps & Hankins Model 1862 Carbine](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sharps_%26_Hankins_Model_1862_Carbine) ([manufactured for the confederate navy](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_weapons_in_the_American_Civil_War), complete with leather cover that protects against sea-spray and salt air!)


	15. Our Ship Goes Up In Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarisse charges between Scylla and Charybdis. Between a rock and a hard place, there's only one thing to do: blow it all up.

I didn't sleep well on the battleship. To begin with, I still wasn't wholly comfortable with sea travel, and the swaying of the hammock on top of the roll of the ship was disconcerting. And then there was Tyson, who snored louder than the machinery in the engine and boiler rooms combined. I wondered how Percy managed to sleep through it. Then again, I guess he was used to it after sharing a cabin with Tyson for a week. 

I got up early and headed up to the main deck as the sun was rising. I watched it rise slowly over the horizon, my view unobscured by buildings or even trees. We had travelled far out into the ocean by now and there was only open water in every direction. The vastness of it made me uncomfortable, but the view was beautiful. The sun turned the surface of the sea pink, and then red, and then gold as it crept higher and higher. 

Clarisse emerged from her quarters when the sun was a fair way up. The waters we ploughed through were a sparkling blue-green now, with sunbursts dancing off the surface. Clarisse held a flask in each hand. Wordlessly, she passed one to me and took a big gulp out of the other. I unscrewed the top of mine. The smell of freshly-brewed coffee wafted out.

'Thanks,' I said, taking a long, appreciative sniff of the wonderful aroma before sipping at it. Clarisse had made it strong, with just a touch of milk and sugar. I downed it gratefully. The storm of last night's tantrum had evidently passed. 

'Think they're doing all right back at camp without us?' Clarisse said.

'I hope so. We had a few days between the Colchis bulls and the Stymphalian birds, so maybe nothing's attacked yet.' I felt uneasy, though. If the demigods on Kronos's side were orchestrating attacks, they would know the camp's defences would be weakest now, with three senior counsellors gone. 'But we have a spy at camp,' I added. I couldn't remember if I'd told Clarisse that yet. 'Luke has been getting information about everything we're doing.'

Clarisse scowled. 'I bet it's Michael Yew. That runt's a rat if I ever saw one.'

'Who?'

'New kid. One of Apollo's. He's a little punk. Totally deserved to have his head shoved down a toilet bowl.'

I refrained from commenting that Clarisse's hazing ritual for new campers was hardly conducive to making them feel warm and fuzzy about the place. I still needed to stay on her good side.

'Or maybe,' Clarisse said darkly, 'it was someone _else_ who showed up recently.' She looked pointedly at something behind me. 

I looked over my shoulder. Tyson was coming up from below deck. Strangely, I found myself disagreeing with Clarisse. After all my arguments with Percy about the trustworthiness of Cyclops, you'd think I would have readily agreed that Tyson was a prime suspect. I mean, I'd certainly thought so before. But to my surprise, I was no longer so set against Tyson. He wasn't like the Cyclops in Brooklyn. Percy was right—he'd saved our lives enough times that I should probably stop thinking of him as our enemy. I hesitated to say that I liked him, but I didn't think he was a spy.

'Good morning, Annabeth,' Tyson said. 'Good morning, Clarisse.'

Clarisse gave him a disdainful look, but I said, 'Good morning, Tyson. You okay?'

'Many ghosts below,' he said. 'Was scared.'

Clarisse snorted. 'Scared of ghosts. Well, good. They'll destroy you if you try anything funny.'

Tyson trembled. Quickly, I said, 'Tyson's on our side, Clarisse. You should have seen him against the Hydra yesterday. Anyway, if there's a spy at camp, he's probably been around for a while. Luke isn't the only demigod Kronos turned. I think he targeted a lot of the undetermined Hermes campers. When we were on the monster cruise ship yesterday, we saw a whole bunch there. Like Chris Rodriguez—he was on board. I think they're working to plan the attacks on camp.'

Clarisse's face darkened. Her eyes narrowed, but I couldn't read the expression in them: it seemed to contain her usual anger, but there was something else mixed in, too. Concern? Hurt?

'I'm going to go check on the boiler,' she said abruptly. She turned on her heel and marched off into the interior of the ship.

That left Tyson and me standing awkwardly together on the upper deck.

'Um,' I said. 'Thanks for what you did yesterday, with the Hydra.'

Tyson's big brown eye blinked. 'You are my friend,' he said simply. 'You would do the same for me.'

I stared at my feet, feeling guiltier than ever. I _hadn't_ ever considered defending him—that had been all Percy. In fact, there were all those times I'd thought about ditching him, or sacrificing him to a monster because I couldn't get over my disgust at travelling with a Cyclops …

'Also,' Tyson added shyly, 'you are pretty.'

I blushed and stammered, 'You know, you, uh, really shouldn't judge based on looks alone. People … well, we can be cruel even when we look nice.' Like I'd been. Shame was definitely flooding through me big time now. I felt like I ought to apologise, only that would meant telling him I _wasn't_ the friend he thought I was. 'And—people who look ugly can be quite nice,' I finished instead.

I wasn't sure he'd get the hint, but he beamed widely so I hoped he understood what I was trying to say.

'Percy likes you so I like you,' Tyson said. 'Percy is my brother. Percy's best friend is my best friend.'

I felt myself turning even redder. 'I—uh— _Grover_ is Percy's best friend,' I said lamely.

Tyson shook his head. 'Percy is good friends with satyr,' he agreed, 'but you are special.'

'You think so?' Something about that made me feel warm and tight around the chest. I didn't know if Percy had actually told Tyson all this (the absurd image of them having a heart-to-heart in cabin three the way the Aphrodite cabin might do girl talk at a slumber party flitted across my mind), but the idea that Percy might think of me as _special_ made my heart speed up.

A shadow fell over the deck then. The sun was being blotted out by darkness on the horizon. A murky blackness in the sky and sea was approaching quickly. A loud alarm sounded all over the ship, effectively cutting off our conversation. 

There was a yell from one of the zombie crew: 'All hands on deck!' A legion of ghostly soldiers swarmed out from their quarters, moving efficiently to their battle stations. I heard snatches of their crisp, military orders as they ran about: 'Prepare the Dahlgrens,' 'All gun ports locked and loaded,' 'Man the ballistae!'

I found a pair of binoculars in the pilot house and fixed them on the black smudge on the horizon. There was land in the distance, a jagged cliff rising out of the stormy sea. I guessed we were approaching the entrance to the Sea of Monsters.

Percy appeared on the deck shortly. His face was dark and troubled, the way he always looked when he'd had a bad night.

'Another dream?' I asked him. He nodded, but didn't share it. Clarisse came up on his heels, looking just as grim. She put her own pair of binoculars to her eyes.

'At last,' she said. 'Captain, full steam ahead!' 

'We're just off Florida now,' Percy murmured. 'We did like, four hundred and fifty nautical miles. This ship must be magically-enhanced, too.'

Tyson frowned. 'Not good,' he said. 'Too much strain on the pistons. Not meant for deep water.'

I wondered how he knew so much. I didn't think he had ever come into contact with ships before. Then I remembered what Beckendorf had said about Cyclopes working in Hephaestus's undersea forges. Maybe that sort of thing was pre-programmed in them, like Percy's perfect nautical bearings.

Given the creaking noises I could hear coming from down below, it sounded as though Tyson was right. Still, we charged forward and the high cliffs came into sight. A little further on, it looked like a malevolent sea storm was churning over the water.

'Hurricane?' I ventured.

Clarisse shook her head, looking satisfied. 'No, Charybdis.'

'Are you crazy?' I asked, realising that the cliff I'd sighted was in fact the legendary rock and the black storm the harsh whirlpool guarding the ancient sea. The most dangerous entrance you could pick to enter the Sea of Monsters.

'Only way into the Sea of Monsters,' Clarisse said. 'Straight between Charybdis and her sister Scylla.'

Percy frowned, looking at the expanse of ocean on either side of Scylla and Charybdis. 'What do you mean the only way? The sea is wide open! Just sail around them!'

'Don't you know anything?' Clarisse sneered. 'If I tried to sail around them, they would just appear in my path again. If you want to get into the Sea of Monsters, you _have_ to sail through them.'

'What about the Clashing Rocks? That's another gateway,' I reminded her. 'Jason used it.'

'I can't blow apart rocks with my cannons. Monsters, on the other hand …'

It was such a _Clarisse_ thing to say. Trust a daughter of Ares to charge in with guns blazing, all muscle and no brain. It was the only thing children of the war god knew how to do. Only it was going to get us all killed.

'You _are_ crazy,' I told her.

Clarisse just smirked. 'Watch and learn, Wise Girl.' She told the captain to set our course straight for Charybdis.

The close we got to the monster, the rougher the sea grew. I felt vaguely nauseous. I wasn't sure if it was apprehension about Clarisse's idiotic plan or actual seasickness. Our great battleship was starting to feel more like a toy boat in a giant toddler's bathtub, being sloshed around in frothing currents. Every smack of a powerful wave against the hull reminded me just how out of my depths I was at sea.

I forced myself to think of a plan, because I was sure Clarisse's wasn't going to work. How she even thought she could fight a whirlpool that would just suck us right in, I couldn't even fathom. Odysseus had gotten through this entrance by clinging to a fig tree on an outcrop of rock, but I saw no overhanging land beyond the cliff, and Clarisse refused to go anywhere near Scylla anyway. I thought of how we'd escaped from the _Princess Andromeda_. Maybe we could try and power through with Hermes's Flask of winds.

Percy vetoed the idea. 'It's too dangerous to use with a whirlpool like that. More wind might just make things worse.'

I had to trust his word on that. He was the expert with water, after all. Btu that gave me another idea.

'What about controlling the water? You're Poseidon's son. You've done it before.' Maybe he could even calm Charybis herself. She was supposedly a daughter of Poseidon, too. Maybe she would be kinder to her brother.

Percy put his hand out over the deck and closed his eyes, concentrating. He had no luck. If anything, the tossing seemed to get worse. I guess Charybdis wasn't big on sibling co-operation. 

'We need a backup plan,' I said desperately. 'This isn't going to work.'

Tyson chimed in, 'Annabeth is right. Engine's no good.'

'What do you mean?'

'Pressure. Pistons need fixing.'

There was a loud noise like the rumble of a grinder. The ship lurched forward, throwing everybody off balance except for Tyson, who seemed to have the firmest sea legs ever. Clarisse screamed at her crew to back the ship up.

A skeletal crew member burst onto the deck, flames licking from his uniform. 'Boiler room overheating, ma'am!' he cried. 'She's going to blow!'

'You've got to be kidding me,' I said. 

Clarisse wasn't listening. She argued with her sailors, insisting that they fix the problem and get her in range to fire on Charybdis—as if that would help, fighting a maelstrom with guns—but they shook their heads in defeat.

'We're vaporising in the heat,' the burning sailor protested.

'I can fix it!' Tyson shouted.

Clarisse turned to him in surprise. 'You?'

_Yes_! I thought in relief. 'He's a Cyclops! He's immune to fire—and he knows mechanics!'

Clarisse didn't waste time arguing. 'Go!' she told him.

Tyson lumbered off in spite of Percy's protests. 

'He's going to die down there,' Percy said, looking at me reproachfully. 

'He'll be fine. Fire can't hurt him, remember? And we're _all_ going to die if he doesn't fix it.'

We might still die anyway, I thought, as Charybdis loomed up before us. All that was visible of her was her enormous mouth, with crooked teeth rubber-banded with vines. I had a brief glimpse of Odysseus's fig tree sprouting out of nowhere in front of her, and then my attention was captured by the multi-coloured metal braces in her teeth. Some of them had names painted on them— _Ellen Austin_ , _USS Cyclops_ , _Connemara IV_ —I realised they were ships that had previously gone down her swirling oesophagus.

Clarisse fired her guns. Three rounds of celestial bronze ammo exploded into Charybdis's jaws. The sucking didn't even slow. As I'd predicted, the attack was useless at impeding the undercurrent dragging us into the monster's mouth.

But then we started to pull back. The shuddering vibrations from the overheating engine smoothened out and the ship chugged slowly into reverse, then faster, fighting against the pull of Charybdis's swallow. 

'Tyson did it!' I realised.

'Wait! We need to stay close!' Clarisse protested. She aimed her next round of cannon fire.

'We'll die,' Percy told her. 'We _have_ to move away.'

The monster teeth around us rattled as Charybdis tried her final, strongest inhalation. Our progress halted, although I could still feel the engine churning away, doing its best to keep us from being swallowed. Then her mouth slammed shut inches away from our bow. For a moment, the sea stopped sloshing about. The waters stilled and I had a moment to think, _it's okay, we're okay now_.

Then Charybdis did the equivalent of a monster upchuck: a tsunami rushed towards us, flinging the entire ship backwards as it hit. Tons of metal debris was regurgitated as well, including the bronze cannonball Clarisse had just fired down Charybdis's throat. It slammed into our hull like a glowing asteroid. The ship tilted alarmingly, reminding me of the movie _Titanic_ right before the liner was sucked under the surface. Then it righted itself. I suspected Percy had something to do with that.

'The engine is about to blow!' yelled a sailor.

Percy dropped his hands, which he'd raised as he called on the water to steady the ship. 'Where's Tyson?'

'Still down there. Holding it together somehow, though I don't know for how much longer.'

I felt a wave of gratitude towards Tyson. When we got past this, I really owed him an apology. A proper one. 

There was a scream and the zombie captain went flying into the air, yanked up by a thick, fleshy tentacle. We'd been shot back too close to the cliffs of Scylla, and she was now plucking sailors at random off the deck. 

Percy had his sword out in a flash. 'Everyone get below!'

Clarisse swiped at a tentacle and it recoiled. I caught a brief glimpse of an ugly face at the end of it, snarling and gnashing moss-covered teeth. 

'We can't!' Clarisse screamed. 'Below deck is in flames.'

'Lifeboats!' I decided. 'Quick!'

We ran for the rubber boats. I was thankful I'd gotten some experience with this on the _Princess Andromeda_. My fingers felt slightly more sure with the knots this time. Clarisse and I managed to get two boats uncovered. We lowered the first over the port side. Percy threw me his Flask of winds.

'Get the other boat. I'll get Tyson.'

My eyes widened as I realised he meant to go into the flaming boiler room. 'You can't! The heat will kill you!' Surely Tyson would know to come out before it was too late.

Percy ignored me and ran across the deck. I helped Clarisse lower the second boat, my heart nearly exploding with worry. 

'Annabeth, come on!' Clarisse yelled. She'd already leapt into one of the boats and was waiting below.

'We've got to wait for Percy and Tyson!' I yelled back.

'Your funeral!'

I heard her tell the crew to row.

'Percy!' I screamed, but there was no answer. 

The flames were licking out onto the deck now. The heat was blinding. I had no choice but to jump into the second emergency boat, unless I wanted to become a human fireball.

An explosion rocked the air behind me, nearly capsizing my boat. A cloud of smoke and fire filled my vision. Wreckage rained down around me. Some of it might even have hit me—I didn't know. My chest was aching so badly, I couldn't register any other pain.

I did the only thing I could think of and opened the Flask and charged away. But the sorrow I'd felt when Chiron had left, my hurt at facing Luke's betrayal … none of that could compare to the grief that was breaking my heart in two now as I realised Percy was gone, lost in the massive explosion that had taken out the entire battleship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't much of a cliffhanger, since we already know the plot, but writing it still made me way too sad!


	16. We Sail The Ocean Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth finds Percy and they sail on through the Sea of Monsters.

I capped the Flask when I was out of reach of Scylla and Charybdis. The smoke of the explosion was starting to clear. I watched from a distance, through the cloud of my own tears, as what was left of the Confederate battleship burned out, sank, and got sucked into Charybdis. The monster, having gotten her dinner after all, descended back into the depths of the ocean. The seas calmed as Scylla faded away, too, and I was left drifting in a rowboat with nothing but open water on every side.

Around me, a bunch of stuff that had been caught up in the winds as I escaped bobbed in the water. I fished them up half-heartedly: a sealed bag of ambrosia, several grey shirts (I guessed their skeleton owners had either sank or vaporised), and a bottle of Dr Pepper. 

Clarisse was nowhere to be seen. I didn't know if she'd managed to get away, or if the explosion had sucked her in and claimed her, along with Tyson and ... Percy.

I stifled a sob, then decided there was no reason to hold back my tears. I was marooned in the Sea of Monsters, the only one left to carry out a quest that seemed entirely unimportant next to the fact that my best friend was gone. 

I didn't know how long I sat weeping in the lifeboat. At some point, I became aware of a pale face staring at me from below the surface of the water. It was a pretty woman with green-tinged skin, and she was beckoning urgently to me. A Nereid—one of the nymphs of the sea. I started up the Flask cautiously and followed her.

A few hundred feet away, I saw a familiar shock of black hair sticking out of the water. My heart thumped wildly as I approached the unconscious figure floating in the water. He was draped across a plank of driftwood, waves washing occasionally over his head. His knapsack hung over one shoulder by a single strap; the other was gone, along with half the bag. Teeth marks ran along where it had been ripped.

'Thank the gods!' I grabbed Percy and pulled him into the rowboat, dripping wet. 'Thank you, thank you, _thank you_ ,' I told the Nereid, who smiled pleasantly back at me.

Percy was out cold and his breathing was shallow, but he was _alive_. I settled him in the boat, half-laughing, half-crying as I issued a hysterical prayer to any god who might be listening, and especially to Poseidon. 

Then I forced myself to get a grip. Percy didn't look like he was in great shape. Besides being unconscious, his skin was raw and he had cuts all over him, including a nasty one across his forehead. Ordinarily, being in the water fixed that sort of thing for him, but maybe it was a little different in the Sea of Monsters. He'd had trouble earlier controlling the sea around Charybdis, too. 

I forced a square of ambrosia into his mouth and a little colour returned his cheeks. His breathing steadied and soon he started murmuring. 

I smiled. His sleep-talking was a familiar trait by now, and it felt comforting, even endearing, to hear it. I decided he'd be okay after some rest.

The Nereid was still swimming along by the side of the boat. 

'Thank you,' I told her again. 'You wouldn't happen to have seen anyone else floating around, would you?' I asked hopefully, thinking of Clarisse and Tyson.

The Nereid shook her head and my heart sank. I looked around uncertainly, completely unsure of which direction I should head. Percy would probably be able to tell where we were, but I hated to wake him after what he'd just been through.

 _Just go_ , I heard in my head. I looked at the Nereid. Her mouth was moving. _Fate will guide you to your destination_ , she said. 

It felt weird, but I started up the Flask and we went skimming over the water.

The winds carried us until the sun was high overhead, and then it gave a final spurt of air and petered out. I guess it was just as well. The headwind was making me feel chilly, after the dousing I'd gotten from Charybdis earlier. If we'd actually been in the Atlantic, we would probably have died of hypothermia, but in the Sea of Monsters, both the weather and the water felt warmer, more equatorial. 

We drifted for a while but Percy stayed asleep. I began to feel uncomfortable, just bobbing aimlessly in the water. I felt better when we were moving. 

I examined what I had in the boat, which wasn't much. The boat had oars, but it was wide enough that I would only be able to manage one side at a time, and that would take us around in circles while tiring myself out needlessly. Then my eyes settled on the sailors' shirts. They were dry now, after being blown about in the wind and baked under the sun. If I stitched them together, I could maybe make a sail and raise it on one of the oars. I had no clue about sailing, but thankfully when we'd designed the chariots, I'd read about aerodynamics in my dad's military aircraft books. Sails operated on the same principles as the physics of flight, after all.

Craftwork wasn't the best of my talents, but I was still a daughter of Athena. Stitching fabric together came to me naturally enough. Before long, I had a five by four foot triangular canvas mounted on an oar and fixed to the bow of the boat. I sheeted it in with one of the lifeboat's straps, which I sawed off with my knife. 

The rubber dinghy slid forward tentatively.

Over the next hour, I got the hang of steering and adjusting the sail. It took a bit of trial and error, figuring out when to push and pull the tiller and how far to let out the sail, but I thought I was doing a fairly decent job of it by the time Percy finally woke up. 

He pushed himself into a seating position, but his arms promptly collapsed under him. Clearly he still wasn't at full strength. 

'Rest,' I told him. 'You're going to need it.'

He looked around, taking in the lifeboat and the vast sea surrounding us. 'Tyson?' he said hesitantly.

My heart sank. I felt bad about losing Tyson, too, but Percy really cared about him. 'Percy, I'm really sorry.'

He turned away, looking the way I'd felt when I thought they were all dead. I couldn't stand seeing that expression on his face.

'He may have survived. I mean, fire can't kill him,' I offered, although I didn't really believe it myself.

I thought Percy might get angry at me, accuse me of leaving Tyson behind on purpose, and I guess he would have been justified. Although I hadn't intentionally lost him—at this point, I'd have been thrilled to see his big ugly face popping out of the waves—I still felt incredibly guilty about the way I'd treated him before. Now that he was gone, it seemed so stupid that I had distrusted and vilified him. His last act had been to try to save our lives, I thought with a pang. Again.

But Percy didn't say anything. His hands clenched and unclenched as though looking for something to hold on to. My mind flitted across Tyson, holding my hand because he was scared. I took Percy's hand and held it in silence for a while. 

'What did I miss?' he said after a bit. 

I told him how I'd found him after getting clear of the explosion, and carried on sailing first under the steam of the Flask and later with the makeshift sail. Percy unpacked his half-bitten knapsack while I talked, but the only thing still in it was his bottle of vitamins. He pocketed it and took over steering without comment, navigating us through the water like he'd been born to sail. With Percy at the helm, we moved faster, although as far as I could see, he wasn't doing anything vastly different to what I had done.

'We're a hundred and thirteen nautical miles away,' he said. 'I'd guess we're going about three, four knots at most? That's not much time to get to Grover.'

'Did he contact you again? Through the empathy link?'

'Yeah,' he said. 'Last night, before—' A look of sadness flashed across his face. 'Last night, Polyphemus showed him the Fleece. It's really there. Polyphemus said it's guarded by pets, but I didn't see anything besides sheep.'

'Sheep?' I had a sudden bad feeling. What was it that Ethel had said, back in Wilmington? _Some Cyclops down south ordered them special?_

Percy nodded. 'Grover's still pretending to be a Cyclops bride. He's been trying to buy time, saying he has to weave a bridal train before Polyphemus can marry him. But Polyphemus just gave him a deadline—he's got to finish by tomorrow, and when that happens, I don't see how he can keep tricking Polyphemus any longer.'

'Tomorrow,' I said, my heart sinking. 'That gives us less than twenty-four hours to get to Grover—assuming Polyphemus doesn't change his mind and try to marry Grover earlier.'

'Yeah.' Percy raised his eyebrows. 'You can never trust a Cyclops.'

I winced and looked away. But I deserved that jibe. 'I'm sorry, Percy. I was wrong about Tyson, okay? I wish I could tell him that.'

Percy didn't reply. We lapsed into silence again as he sailed us on. I looked out over the water. Various sea creatures swam past just below the surface: schools of fishes with rainbow scales, pods of chittering dolphins, a golden stingray the size of a car. Once I saw a three-headed seahorse go ambling by. Occasionally some of the creatures would poke their heads above the waves and stare at us, but none of them disturbed us.

Then out of nowhere, Percy said, 'Annabeth, what's Chiron's prophecy?'

It was the last thing I expected him to ask. I wasn't sure why he'd started thinking about that, of all things. 'Percy, I shouldn't—'

'I know Chiron promised the gods he wouldn't tell me. But _you_ didn't promise, did you?'

There was more to it than that. I knew Chiron had wanted to protect Percy by sparing him the burden of knowledge—I mean, knowing that a choice in your future had the power to destroy the gods and everything they stood for? That was pretty scary.

'Knowledge isn't always good for you,' I warned him.

'Your mom is the wisdom goddess!'

'I know! But …' One thing I'd learned last year was that wisdom and knowledge weren't necessarily synonymous. Especially when it came to prophecies. 'Every time heroes learn the future, they try to change it, and it never works.'

Percy got a speculative look in his eyes. 'The gods are worried about something I'll do when I get older. Something when I turn sixteen.'

He'd stumbled so close to the truth, it was uncanny. I guessed if he already knew enough to put that together … well, the parts of the prophecy I did know didn't add much more to that anyway.

I told him the broad strokes of it—that a half-blood child of the Big Three who turned sixteen would have the power to decide the fate of Olympus—and that it was why the three oldest gods had vowed not to have children in the first place.

'That's why Kronos didn't kill me last summer,' Percy said.

My insides clenched, remembering our conversation about whether Thalia would have joined Luke. 'You could be very useful to him,' I said, trying to keep my voice steady. 'If he can get you on his side, the gods will be in serious trouble.'

'But if it's _me_ in the prophecy—'

'We'll only know that if you survive three more years.' If Chiron and I could keep him safe until then. I remembered what Chiron had told me last year: ' _Percy has the makings of a true hero, who might save Olympus. Ultimately, I would like to keep him alive long enough for him to grow into the hero Olympus needs him to be_.' I shivered when I thought of how close I'd come to losing Percy in the battleship explosion. Aside from the oath I'd sworn to Chiron on the Styx, losing him felt like losing Thalia again—only ten times worse. I wondered if Chiron felt like Percy was a second chance at protecting a hero of the prophecy, a chance that he had to get right this time.

When I told Percy this—minus how I'd feel personally if he died—he looked thoughtful.

'This kid in the prophecy,' he said, 'he or she couldn't be like, a Cyclops? The Big Three have lots of monster children.'

'The Oracle said "half-blood",' I said. 'That always means half human, half god. There's really nobody alive who it could be, except you.'

'Then why do the gods even let me live? It would be safer to kill me.'

'You're right.'

'Thanks a lot,' he said sarcastically, although I'd only meant that some of the gods probably _did_ follow that line of reasoning, not that I thought they should.

'Percy, I don't know. I guess some of the gods _would_ like to kill you, but they're probably afraid of offending Poseidon. Other goes … maybe they're still watching you, trying to decide what kind of hero you're going to be. You could be a weapon for their survival, after all. The real question is … what will you do in three years? What decision will you make?' I watched him closely, wondering if knowing about the prophecy had in fact changed things like Chiron feared.

'Did the prophecy give any hints?'

I felt a little disappointed. I guess I was hoping for him to promise he'd always do the right thing, even though I knew well enough that it was impossible to know what the right choice would be in advance. Percy wouldn't betray me, of that I felt sure, but the chilling thought came to me—what if because of that, _I_ proved to be the downfall of Olympus? I knew I had a role to play in the prophecy, too, though neither Chiron nor I knew what exactly.

There were some lines I still didn't know about, and I wondered now if I should have pushed harder to learn them.

Before I could come up with an answer to Percy's question, a seagull dove out of the sky, scattering a bunch of leaves over my head. The greenery had to come from somewhere near, I thought, and with that, I realised—'Land! There's land nearby!' I squinted at what looked like a dark line above the blue horizon.

'We can't be there yet,' Percy said. 'We're only at thirty-two degrees, thirty-eight minutes north and seventy-one degrees, twenty-seven minutes west.'

'Let's go ashore for a while, anyway,' I said. The numbers sounded close enough to our target co-ordinates that it wouldn't cost us too much to make a brief stop. And I was eager to touch solid ground. I'd had enough of the sea for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, this chapter gave me much joy because I got to write (however minimally) about sailing! As an actual sailor myself, that makes me happy. :) And yes, sails _do_ work on the same principle as airplane wings.


	17. I Free A Cage Of Guinea Pigs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth and Percy get very different sorts of makeovers on a magic island spa.

The closer we got to the island, the more helpful the currents became in drawing us into port. We sailed easily into harbour among an assortment of sea and air craft. I picked out the military ones easily: they looked like life-sized versions of the replicas my dad collected in his study. If I wasn't mistaken, though, these were all the models that had reportedly gone down over the Atlantic or been declared MIA or lost at sea at some point. I wondered if this was where all the craft that had 'disappeared' into the Bermuda Triangle had ended up. Maybe all the mortals who had gotten sucked into the Triangle had simply ended up populating this island and never returned. 

I could see little white buildings dotting the slope of a mountain that rose up at the centre of the island. The whole place had the feel of a resort, with pristine white beaches and palm trees swaying lazily in a gentle breeze, like the perfect backdrop for an exotic holiday destination. 

The sea currents pulled us right up against a pontoon on the dock, where a girl was standing with a clipboard as though waiting for us. She was maybe in her late teens, though her outfit and stance gave her the appearance of being much older. Her blue blazer was stylish yet professional, and the matching pants she wore were so crisply ironed, I could see the smart crease in the legs. Every strand of her coal-black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her immaculate look seemed incongruous on a tiny dock in front of a tropical paradise, where Hawaiian-print shirts and board shorts wouldn't have been out of place. 

She welcomed us brightly but her eyes, so dark that the pupils nearly disappeared into her irises, were sharp and calculating.

'Is this your first time with us?' she asked pleasantly. 

It was such a bizarre question, Percy and I both found ourselves lost for words. Blue-suit girl was unfazed. She scribbled on her clipboard, muttering, 'First—time—at—spa.' Then her critical eyes surveyed us the way a cabin ten girl might contemplate a new dress. 'Let's see … a herbal wrap to start for the young lady, and of course, a complete makeover for the young gentleman.'

I had no idea what she was talking about. Blue-suit girl finished writing everything down on her clipboard and then she said, 'Right! Well, I'm sure C.C. will want to speak with you personally before the luau. Come, please.'

Percy and I looked at each other. On one hand, I was wary of overly-welcoming hosts. It hadn't worked out well for us in the past. On the other, I wasn't keen to return straightaway to our empty little rowboat. Besides, in spite of blue-suit girl's welcoming tone of voice, I had no doubt that someone with eyes like hers could turn hostile pretty quickly if we made a wrong move. Like refusing to go along with her.

'I guess it couldn't hurt,' I said, and we followed blue-suit girl off the dock.

She led us through a veritable paradise of white marble. The buildings we'd seen from a distance turned out to be gorgeous villas and terrace houses that wound all the way up the mountain. The lowest ones opened out onto the sandy white beach. A group of little girls were riding a manta ray in the shallows. Higher up, it was like a high-class water park integrated into a beach resort. Swimming pools of all shapes and sizes lined the decks of the villas, some connected with towering waterslides and swimming tubes. All were tastefully designed so that the loops resembled golden rings. Ornamental fountains decorated the lawns, spraying mist and rainbows into the air. Young ladies in bikinis lounged in deckchairs by the poolside, sipping from coconut husks with little umbrellas sticking out of them and sunning the facial masks on their faces. White-uniformed attendants moved around them, performing manicures and pedicures and body wraps. 

Unlike the passengers on the _Princess Andromeda_ , the guests here all looked fully cognisant of what they were enjoying. This might have put me at ease, if not for two things that struck me at odd: one, the lack of any men—given the hordes of military craft in the harbour, I'd expected to see _some_ guys at least, though I allowed that they probably wouldn't be caught dead getting a manicure. Maybe the spa had another wing for boys. 

The other thing was that the spa had animal guests, too—turtles sunbathing on the decks and pigs getting mud-bath facials. None of them looked like monsters, but their presence reminded me that we were still on an island inside a magical place. However, as hard as I tried, I could not recall any stories about a spa resort in the Sea of Monsters.

We followed blue-suit girl through all this luxury until we reached a building halfway up the mountain. It was shaped like a fairy-tale tower, with a spiral staircase at the base. I heard the music first, an ancient air sung by a lovely, beguiling female voice. Although the language was unfamiliar, the meanings of the words seemed to touch something deep inside me. Instantly I felt warm and happy, but also powerful, like my skin was tingling with magical ability.

The singer sat at a loom in the centre of a room panelled with full-length windows that overlooked the entire resort. The rest of the walls were all mirrors. I saw myself reflected back and forth in them, a thousand images growing progressively smaller. What caught my attention, though, was the tapestry growing on the singer's loom: a waterfall beneath a sky of fluffy white clouds. It was so real-looking, I could have sworn I actually saw the rushing of water over the cliff and the rustle of grass in the breeze. I'd never seen anyone weave like that, not even my half-sister Celia. 

'It's beautiful!' I said. 

The singer stopped mid-song and turned to us. 'You appreciate weaving, my dear?'

'Oh, yes, ma'am!' Even if I hadn't trained in the skill, I couldn't _not_ appreciate it as my heritage. 'My mother is A—' I bit my tongue before I could reveal that I was a demigod.

'You have good taste, my dear,' the singer said, not seeming to notice my slip. 'I'm so glad you've come. My name is C.C.'

'I'm Annabeth, and this is Percy,' I said. A high-pitched squealing from a corner distracted me. It was a wire cage full of guinea pigs. I frowned. C.C. certainly had strange taste in pets.

C.C. ignored her guinea pigs and focused her green eyes on us. Her hair was dark like her assistant's, but she'd woven in threads of gold into her long braid such that it sparkled and set off her eyes. She pursed her lip as her gaze hovered over Percy.

'Oh dear, you _do_ need my help.'

Percy looked crestfallen. 'Ma'am?'

'Hylla,' C.C. said, and blue-suit girl jumped to attention. 'Take Annabeth on a tour, will you? Show her what we have available. The clothing will need to change. And the hair, my goodness.' She shook her head like my hair pained her. 'We will do a full image consultation after I've spoken with this young gentleman.'

'But …' I touched my ponytail self-consciously. It was probably a mess after two days blowing around at sea, but was it really that bad? Did Percy think so, too? I glanced towards him, but he was staring transfixed at C.C. 'What's wrong with my hair?'

'My dear,' C.C. said gently, 'you are lovely. Really!' Her words filled me with warmth and relief. 'But you're not showing off yourself or your talents at all. So much wasted potential!'

'Wasted?'

'Well, surely you're not happy the way you are! My goodness, there's not a single person who is,' C.C. said, and I found myself nodding, thinking of all the little imperfections I had that could be improved: my unruly hair and chipped nails for one, but deeper things, too, like how I wasn't wise enough, or lovable enough, or really, just perfect enough. It was funny; the things C.C. said reminded me of the Aphrodite girls back at camp, except I felt certain that C.C. had more depth. 

'But don't worry,' she continued, 'we can improve anyone here at the spa. Hylla will show you what I mean. You, my dear, need to unlock your true self!'

I had a sudden image of myself—a _perfect_ version of myself—with glossy dark hair and a glow all around me just like my mother. That Annabeth, I knew instantly, wasn't just beautiful. She was also a master architect and the wisest woman in the world, whom everyone else came to for answers. I felt a desperate need to become her. 

Hylla smiled knowingly at me. I was about to follow her out of the room when I remembered Percy and hesitated.

'Percy requires my personal attention,' C.C. said. 'He needs _much_ more work than you.'

Percy looked like he very much agreed with this.

'Well … I suppose …'

Hylla took my elbow. 'Right this way, dear.'

The image of my perfect self faded when we reached the bottom of C.C.'s tower, leaving me feeling like there was something I wanted, but I couldn't quite place what it was. Hylla showed me treatment rooms, hair salons, massage beds … I saw fitness studios where willowy women worked out, somehow looking pristine as they sweated in figure-hugging exercise gear. There were therapy pools which were supplied by musical waterfalls that played soothing melodies as they danced into the pools. Clients luxuriated in saunas and steam rooms with their heads wrapped in fluffy towels. We passed sunbeds where ladies sprawled with lava rocks on their backs—'So helpful for sore muscles,' Hylla said. She opened a door to a room where several human and animal guests were sharing a jacuzzi filled with bubbling brown goo. 

'The mud chamber,' Hylla explained. 'We only use mud from Lemnos, of course. Cures all imperfections in the skin.'

We finished back at the base of C.C.'s tower. Hylla opened a door beneath the stairs. It led not into a closet as I would have expected, but into a high-ceilinged circular room. Bookshelves lined the walls, going up several storeys. It was like the library in _Beauty and the Beast_.

'For our guests who appreciate the value of knowledge,' Hylla said. 'We have books on any subject, from any time period going all the way back to the age of the gods.'

'Ancient architecture?' I said hopefully.

'Yes, of course—I believe it's that shelf over there.' She smiled at me. 'You can come back and have a look later.'

I wanted to stay and look now, but Hylla was already ushering me out the door. 'As you can see, there's no better place than this in the world,' she said. 'Miss C.C. is _wonderful_ at helping us women. She can see through our outer imperfections to our inner selves, you see, and she works to help us bring out our strengths.'

'How long have you been working for her?'

'Working for her? Oh no, you've got it wrong, dear. We don't work _for_ Miss C.C., we're her apprentices. She trains us. And you could join us, too, you know. She's an expert at training young women.'

Hylla guided me into another room, this one with a large dressing table. A girl sat at the mirror, twisting a silver ring on her finger that had a torch and sword emblazoned across the stone. She jumped up when we entered. Her dark hair and eyes were like Hylla's and they had the same sun-brown skin, but this girl was around my age. She took one look at me and asked Hylla, a little pleadingly, 'Can I do this one, please?'

'My sister, Reyna,' Hylla said. 'She's apprenticing, too, though she's still learning the ropes. You don't mind if she does your makeover, do you?'

'Um, I don't think … I'm not sure …' What I really wanted was to go back to the library. A dim thought crossed my mind as well that I should probably check on Percy, too.

Reyna fingered my hair. 'Your hair could be so pretty,' she said. 'I know just what to do.'

For some reason, I let them coax me into it. I had to admit, I relished my soak in the hot bath they drew for me. Reyna wrapped me in a plastic sheet after, which smelled like fresh spring flowers. I lay in a soft reclining armchair as she washed my hair in a basin, gently massaging my scalp with a relaxing lotion. By some miracle, she managed to detangle my hair without any tugging. Then she and Hylla dressed me in a fluffy robe and sat me down at the dressing table, where they proceeded to style my hair into an intricate braid like C.C.'s, with golden threads weaving in and out. Reyna handed me a white silk dress to change into. After my t-shirt and jeans that smelt of saltwater and the guts of Charybdis, the silky fabric felt like a dream against my skin. 

'Here,' said Reyna. She held out my bronze knife and Yankees cap, which she'd set aside during the herbal wrap. She looked at the dagger curiously, but if she had a question about it, she didn't ask. 

'Thanks.' My dress was sleeveless, so I hitched up my skirt and attached the knife to my thigh. I tucked my invisibility cap under the dress, keeping it cinched to my waist with the belt. 

When I looked in the mirror at the end of all this, I hardly recognised myself. Besides the hairstyle and new dress, Hylla and Reyna had also dabbed blush and blemish cream on my face so that my cheeks were flawless and rosy. I had glittering eyeshadow on my lids that matched the gold in my hair. They'd lined my eyes and darkened my eyelashes so that they curled alluringly. 

I looked like an Aphrodite girl. No—I looked _better_.

'There!' Hylla announced. 'Perfect. Yes, I think Miss C.C. will be pleased. Why don't you go show her now, while Reyna and I clean up here? She's just down the hall.'

I returned to C.C.'s weaving room. She was talking to someone inside, in a harsh voice that made me pause at the door. Something tugged at my mind, a sense of unease that I didn't quite understand. 

'Miss C.C.?'

When thirty seconds passed with no answer, I pushed the door open. C.C. was standing before the loom, and she was alone. 

'Where's Percy?'

C.C. waved a hand towards the door. 'He's having one of our treatments, my dear. Not to worry. You look wonderful! What did you think of your tour?' Her voice had returned to its gentle, musical tone. 

'Your library is amazing,' I told her sincerely.

C.C. looked pleased to hear this. 'Yes, indeed. The best knowledge of the past three millennia. Anything you want to study, anything you want to _be_ , my dear.' Her green eyes studied me carefully, seeming to glow with their intensity.

'An architect?' I said.

'Pah!' C.C. drew back with a dismissive scowl. 'You, my dear, have the makings of a sorceress,' she claimed. And then she smiled slyly. 'Like me.'

A chill travelled down my spine. _We're here apprentices_ , Hylla had said. Their studies weren't about makeovers or self-discovery after all.

'A sorceress?'

C.C. conjured up a dancing flame in her hands and held them out towards me—a demonstration, or maybe a threat. 'Yes, my dear. My mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic. I know a daughter of Athena when I see one.' Her voice turned beguiling again, but it was different now. My mind no longer trusted that voice. It urged me to be wary, to look around. 

C.C. continued, 'We are not so different, you and I. We both seek knowledge. We both admire greatness. Neither of us needs to stand in the shadow of men.'

'I—I don't understand.'

'Stay with me. Study with me. You can join our staff, become a sorceress, learn to bend others to your will. You will become immortal!'

For a second the idea was so enchanting, it took my breath away. Then it was as though a wave crashed over it and smashed it to pieces like Clarisse's battleship. 

'But—' I started to protest.

'You are too intelligent, my dear. You know better than to trust that silly camp for heroes. How many female half-blood heroes can you name?'

I could picture their photographs on the wall of Chiron's office. 'Um, Atalanta, Amelia Earhart …'

I started to list more, but C.C. cut me off with a snap of her fingers. Her conjured flames vanished. 'Bah! Men get all the glory. The only way to power for women is sorcery. Medea, Calypso, now there were powerful women! And me, of course. The greatest of all.'

'You …' The nagging sense of unease at the back of my mind finally resolved into a clear picture. 'C.C. … Circe!' I stepped back in horror, cursing myself inside for not realising it sooner. Of course, the enchantress Circe, whom Odysseus had met on his voyage. The sorceress who had turned all of his men to …

'You need not worry,' Circe said, sounding amused. 'I mean you no harm.'

Icy tendrils tightened around my stomach. Men. There were no men on the island. 'What have you done to Percy?'

'Only helped him realise his true form,' Circe said lightly, as though she had done him an enormous favour.

Pigs, I remembered. She had turned the men to pigs. My eyes went straight to the wire cage I'd spotted earlier. Guinea pigs. Of course.

Circe waved her hand dismissively. 'Forget him. Join me and learn the ways of sorcery.'

'But—' I knew as I said the words it was useless to protest. Circe had the power of three millennia of magic behind her. There was charmspeak in her words, too, almost convincing me that Percy the guinea pig would live a wonderful life as a kindergarten pet. The more I resisted, the more magic she would pour at me. If I wanted to fight her, I needed to be crafty.

'Let me think about it,' I said, trying to sound like I was persuaded by her logic. 'Just … give me a minute alone. To say goodbye.'

Circe smiled at me in triumph. 'Of course, my dear. One minute. Oh … and so you have privacy …' Her hand made a slashing motion through the air. The windows were replaced instantly with iron bars, turning the room into a cell. She locked the door behind her as she left. 

I gritted my teeth. _Find Percy first_ , I told myself. _Then you can figure out how to escape_. The problem was, all the guinea pigs looked alike. They squealed and scratched at the wiring on their cage, equally intent on getting my attention. I'd never be able to pick him out before Circe returned. And when she realised I _wasn't_ under her spell, she'd make me feel like—how did she put it? Like I _needed to unlock my true self_.

Something tugged at my memory. _Feel yourself again_.

'That's it!' I searched the room and spotted Percy's clothes tucked away under the loom. The bottle of vitamins Hermes had given him was thankfully still in the pocket of his jeans. I twisted the cap desperately. The doorknob rattled. I was out of time.

I managed to pop off the bottle cap and stick one of the vitamins in my mouth just as Circe came in with two different trainees. I swallowed it quickly, praying that I'd guessed right about the protective power of Hermes's multi-vites.

'Well, how fast a minute passes,' Circe said. I could tell that she was still charming her voice, but I no longer felt the slightest compulsion to trust it. 'What is your answer, my dear?'

I decided that actions spoke louder than words. I reached up my skirt and unsheathed my knife. 'This.'

Circe raised her eyebrows, though she seemed disconcerted by the glow of the blade. Her voice lost all trace of persuasion. 'Really, little girl, a knife against _my_ magic? Is that wise?' She glanced towards her trainees as if to say, _practice time_. 'What will Annabeth's makeover be?' She tapped her lip thoughtfully. 'Something small and ill-tempered. I know … a shrew!'

Her two trainees raised their hands and sent blue tendrils of smoke towards me. They swirled around me like a whirlwind, but I sprang right through. Circe, so overconfident in her magic that she wasn't expecting an attack, didn't react in time. I managed to bring my blade right up against her neck.

'How about turning me into a panther instead? One that has her claws at your throat!'

Circe's eyes were wide. 'How!'

I revealed the bottle of vitamins and Circe cursed, bemoaning Hermes's tricks.

'Turn Percy back into a human or else!'

'I can't!'

'Then you asked for it.' I felt a grim sense of satisfaction as I dragged her with me to the cage and emptied the vitamin bottle inside. Both Circe and her apprentices would be helpless against anyone whom the vitamins rendered immune to their magic. I had a feeling the men she'd entrapped wouldn't be too pleased with her. And it didn't seem like Circe trained much in fighting skills. 

Circe screamed, 'No! You don't understand—those are the worst!'

The cage broke apart as Percy shot up, along with six big, hairy men. The largest of them had a long, black beard that covered half his face.

'Argggh, what's the witch done to me?' he growled. His head swivelled over to where I had Circe at knifepoint. I gasped, realising I'd seen his face before in a history book.

I shoved Circe towards him. 'I recognised you! Edward Teach, son of Ares?'

'Aye, lass, though most call me Blackbeard,' he said. 'And there's the sorceress what captured us, lads! Run her through, and then I mean to find me a big bowl of celery!' 

He roared again. Circe and her apprentices fled, Blackbeard and his men hot on their heels.

Percy and I were left in the room, staring at each other. I was so relieved to see him properly human, I threw my arms around him without thinking twice. 

'Thanks—I'm really sorry …' he muttered. 

I'd never really hugged him before. He felt warm and comforting, and his arm came up awkwardly to pat my back. The brush of his skin against my bare arm sent a tingle up my spine, but in a good way this time. My heart fluttered and I let go quickly. 

'I'm, er, I'm glad you're not a guinea pig,' I stammered. I could feel the heat flooding my face. 

'Me, too.' Our eyes met briefly. I looked away quickly and fiddled with the end of my braid. What _could_ you say after practically jumping your best friend? 

The sound of screams from outside disrupted our awkward silence. 

'Come on, Seaweed Brain,' I said, trying to disguise my embarrassment. 'We have to get away while Circe's distracted.'

The resort was in an uproar. In the short few minutes since I'd unleashed them, Blackbeard and his pirates had managed to trash half the place as they tore through like a destructive tornado. Percy and I ran for the docks.

'Which ship?' I asked him. I had some limited knowledge about military vessels, but I figured Percy still knew best when it came to sea travel. 

He scanned the harbour. 'There,' he said, pointing to an old sailing ship that looked like it had been built in the seventeenth century. 

'But …' I thought he would have chosen something with engines or at least a motor, that could make a quick getaway.

'I can make it work,' he promised. 

'How?'

Percy just grabbed my hand and yanked me along. We ran up the gangplank and boarded the ship.

'Argggh! Those scallywags are a-boarding me vessel!'

I looked back to the beach. Blackbeard and his pirates were charging down to the docks, yelling, 'Get 'em, lads!'

'We'll never get going in time!' And it was too late to pick another ship, with Blackbeard already targeting us as enemies.

Percy put his hands out, the way he did when he controlled water. I didn't feel anything change; the ship swayed gently in its berth. But then he cried, 'Mizzenmast!' and the ship came to life. Ropes sprang away from canvas sails, which raised themselves on the three large masts. The mooring lines flew off the docks. 

We set sail, leaving a group of angry pirates waving their fists at us from the shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun making up stuff for the spa. Most of it came from Googling about spas, because I’ve never actually been to one. Like Annabeth, I’m much more interested in the library (and I totally pictured the one in _Beauty and the Beast_ because that’s the iconic private library image for me … it’s also my favourite Disney movie). So if I didn’t manage to portray a spa all that accurately … er, let’s just say Circe's one is different because it's magic?


	18. I Take A Midnight Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth wakes from disturbing dreams and steers the ship towards the Isle of the Sirens.

Percy was right—he did know how to make the ancient sailing vessel work. He didn't even need a crew; all he needed to do was lift a hand and the sails would trim themselves in synchrony, their sheets cranking through the pulleys with no effort at all on our part. He stood at the wheel, steering us into the night, perfectly comfortable with the way the hull swayed from side to side as we charged through the water. 

I wasn't so lucky. If I'd thought the slight rock of the _Princess Andromeda_ and Clarisse's battleship disconcerting, that was nothing compared to the pitch and roll or an actual sailing ship. Even the rowboat, close as we had been to the water, hadn't felt this bad.

Percy gave me a sympathetic look. 'You look a little green.'

'We can't all be sons of the sea god,' I snapped. 

'I'll take first watch, if you want to go below and get some rest.'

I left him to it, not without some envy at his perfect sea legs. I thought I might have more trouble falling asleep with the violent rocking, but once I lay down, it felt more rhythmic, like I was a baby in an enormous cradle being rocked gently to sleep. 

The dream came right away. I was back at camp, except it was the wrong season. A layer of thin frost covered the grass, and the river that marked the boundary in the woods when we played capture the flag was icy cold. Percy stood on one side of it in Greek battle armour holding a silver flag with a large painted deer. From the other side, Thalia came marching out of the woods, also in full armour. She wielded her shield, Aegis, in one hand and swung her spear in the other. Her entire body was crackling with energy.

Thalia waded through the creek and walked right up to Percy.

'Perseus Jackson!' she fumed. 'What in the name of the gods were you _thinking_?' She sounded ten times angrier than the one time I'd seen her lose her temper at Luke.

'I got the flag, Thalia!' Percy yelled back. 'I saw a chance and I took it.'

They were standing face to face now and I was struck by how alike they looked. Not in terms of actual features; the only thing they had in common was their black hair. But the identical, stubborn expressions on their faces, the intensity in their eyes, like electricity might shoot from them at any second …

Thalia looked older here, too, I realised, although it was hard to tell through the battle armour. She looked like she would have if she'd lived a couple more years. 

Thalia reached out and shoved Percy. He stumbled back and splashed into the creek, his armour sizzling with electricity. I felt a wave of sympathy. I'd seen Thalia shock monsters before, and it hadn't been pretty.

But Percy wasn't powerless. The river rose up in an angry spout and slammed into Thalia, drenching her in icy water.

'You want some, Seaweed Brain?' she shouted, brandishing her spear. It gave me a shiver to hear my nickname for him issue from her mouth. 

'Bring it on, Pinecone Face!' Percy growled, drawing Riptide.

Lightning flashed; the river swirled into a hurricane. Sky and sea, Zeus and Poseidon, facing off like last year, only it was their children taking on the battle now. In the background, someone laughed: cold and cruel, like nails across a blackboard. 

' _Yes_ ,' said a voice that chilled me even more than the sight of Percy and Thalia facing off like enemies. I'd heard that voice a few times before in my dreams, and last year, emerging from the pit of Tartarus in the Underworld. 

Kronos, the Titan lord, hissed, ' _They will play right into my hands. I will command the prophecy. And then a choice … the hero's choice …_ ' He laughed again and then he seemed to address me directly. ' _Oh, little hero, which one will you choose?_ '

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. I had no idea which side Percy or Thalia was on in the dream, but I couldn't bear it either way. And the way Kronos was speaking to me, as if _I_ had to choose between them. How could I ever do that?

The dream shifted, and I was in the state room of the _Princess Andromeda_ again. Luke knelt at the sarcophagus, speaking softly. 'There's not much time left, my lord. If we could just—'

' _Patience_ ,' Kronos said, his voice issuing from the sarcophagus and reverberating around the room. ' _The heroes draw near. And it will strengthen me_.'

'But—you promised,' Luke said. 'You said it would be temporary—'

' _Yes, yes, of course. We have time. Be patient, my young servant. Like I have been patient, waiting for aeons to return. Hopefully you will not fail me and I will not have to keep banking on your pitiful attempts to bring new followers to my side. With a new source of life, our wait shall be cut in half._ '

'But the reports from camp,' Luke said. 'It's fading fast. If it dies, the prophecy—'

' _We shall have to hope your little … friends_ ,' Kronos paused over the word as though it amused him, ' _work fast, then. You knew when we set the plot in motion—there are no great gambles without a sacrifice_.'

Luke's face was pale in the light of the sarcophagus. Kronos laughed again.

' _It will all be fine_ ,' he said. ' _We shall remake the prophecy. We will no longer need Percy Jackson. He is an unreliable weapon—he must be replaced_.'

'And …' Luke's voice faltered. 'Th—The girl?' he whispered. 'You won't let her die. That was the bargain.'

' _We will let her live_ ,' Kronos agreed. ' _She, too, shall serve me_.'

I woke with a start, my heart racing, sweat beading across my forehead. _The girl_ … Luke was bargaining for my life. And Kronos seemed so confident that I would join him. I felt a stab of nausea that had nothing to do with seasickness. Suddenly I couldn't stand to be alone in a dark cabin down below in the hold. Even the dim glow of my bronze dagger was no comfort. 

Above deck, Percy was still at the wheel, looking out beneath a starry sky. The moon hung brightly above us, a glowing orb reflected in the darkened depths of the sea. It illuminated a plume of smoke in the distance, rising out of a triangular mound of an island. The rocks glowed red and I could hear, even from miles away, the crackle and hiss of lava spurting from it. 

A volcano. 

'One of the forges of Hephaestus,' I realised. It fit Ethel's description perfectly. The thought of what dangerous automatons might be lurking below made me shudder. I told Percy to give the volcano a wide berth. One reminder about the bronze bulls was enough for him to agree. He changed course to make a wide circle around the island. 

'It's manned by Cyclopes,' I said, remembering what Beckendorf had told me. I actually felt a pang as I thought of Tyson, lost in the boiler room explosion. 

Percy misinterpreted my sigh. 'The reason you hate Cyclopes so much,' he said carefully. 'The story about how Thalia really died. What happened?'

I'd been about to tell him before, at our James River hideout, but I felt more reluctant to share now. After everything Tyson had done, it no longer felt right to discuss the treachery of Cyclopes. I still couldn't square the clumsy, harmless oaf who had given his life for us with the vicious monster in my memory. But I guess Percy deserved an explanation. 

I told him the story, starting from when Grover had gone the wrong way in Brooklyn and we'd ended up stumbling into the Cyclops's lair. I explained how the Cyclops had tricked us by mimicking our voices, the same way Tyson had imitated Luke and Agrius on the cruise ship. I related my experience, hearing my dad's voice telling me exactly what I wanted to hear. That was the dangers of monsters like that, I realised. It wasn't just that they tricked you—no, they played on what you wanted, things you might not even _know_ you desired. 

Percy looked impressed when I told him how I'd stabbed the Cyclops in the foot—the only thing I'd thought to do at the time—but really it had been Thalia who had gotten us out of there. 

And then the monsters chasing us had caught up and cornered us right on the doorstep of camp. We'd gotten so close. 

'That's really why Thalia died,' I said bitterly. 'If it hadn't been for _that_ Cyclops, she'd still be alive today.'

Percy was silent. I twisted my Yankees cap nervously in my hands, wondering what he was thinking, if he understood why Tyson had freaked me out so much at first, or if he thought I was stupid and cruel for tarring the two Cyclopes with the same brush. I knew now that I'd been wrong, but before I'd met Tyson, monsters had always been so homogeneous in their natures. 

The constellations rose in the sky above us. Percy said, finally, 'Hey, that's Heracles, right?'

I smiled. I'd taught him to identify the stars last summer. It felt good whenever he said things like this, showing that he remembered the stuff I'd told him.

He started yawning soon after and I realised he'd stayed up for a really long time. It had to be way past midnight. I offered to take the next watch and he didn't argue.

I was a little apprehensive about taking the wheel, but Percy assured me that he'd pretty much set it on autopilot so I didn't even have to steer if I didn't want to. I leaned out over the rigging. Moonlight shone on the water, showing me my flowing reflection. It rippled and changed with the water, breaking occasionally when something broke the surface. A few Nereids peeked out, but they disappeared quickly back into the depths without speaking. Sea creatures dove in and out of the waves: dark shapes that scared me at first, but didn't disturb the ship. I relaxed after a threatening-looking fin sank back down and nothing happened. 

Maybe the sea wasn't _that_ bad after all.

My mind kept drifting back to what I had heard in my dream. _She, too, shall serve me_. I wanted to say without reserve that he was deluded, but I couldn't guarantee it. Kronos was a master manipulator. His most dangerous trait was his ability to sneak into people's minds and tempt them with their deepest desires, corrupt them by playing on their greatest weaknesses. Every demigod had a fatal flaw. They weren't all as obvious as Achilles's heel, but Greek mythology was full of references to the flaws that had felled even the greatest heroes of all time: the temper of Heracles, the pride of Phaeton, the doubts of Orpheus.

What was my fatal flaw?

My ambition, perhaps? _We are not so different, you and I_ , Circe had said. _We both seek knowledge. We both admire greatness_. I didn't like to admit it, but she was right about that. 

Luke had tempted me with my desire to be the best architect in the world, back on the _Princess Andromeda_ , and it had been an appealing image. But when I knew who was dangling that promise, I'd been able to resist. If my fatal flaw was ambition, maybe I was wise enough to temper it. 

But what if it was something else, something I didn't know about? Like the way the Brooklyn Cyclops had managed to dig deep into my seven-year-old heart and extract a longing for my dad that I wouldn't have admitted to having, if Kronos—or any other monster for that matter (I thought uneasily of Polyphemus, whom we were about to face)—could play on an unknown weakness of mine, I would be vulnerable.

The constellation Sagittarius was hovering above me now. It was Chiron's constellation and it made me miss him. What I would give to talk to him now, to get some advice. I tried to imagine what he might say to me.

_You, my dear, need to unlock your true self_. It was Circe's voice that I heard instead, like those words were the answer to all my problems. And maybe they were. 

Hadn't Aristotle once said that true wisdom began with self-understanding?

A sliver of light began to creep up from the horizon. I thought I spotted a black blob in the distance that might be land, though the morning was shaping up to be so misty, it was hard to tell for sure. Could it be our destination already? It was still early, and Percy had estimated that we would only arrive at Polyphemus's island in the late afternoon.

I thought about Odysseus's journey through the Sea of Monsters. He'd run into Circe after leaving Polyphemus, though, so if we were going the other way, the last monster he'd met before Circe had been …

'Sirens,' I said aloud, scrutinising the island in the distance. I couldn't be fully certain until we came close, though it was a good bet. And if I were right, we would need to take precautions. The sirens were enchantresses capable of luring sailors to their deaths with their singing. If we waited until we got within earshot to act, it would be too late. 

I thought about changing course to avoid the island, but two things stopped me. Firstly, I didn't have a clue where I ought to steer the ship and I didn't want to mess up the course Percy had charted that was taking us on the fastest route to the Fleece.

Secondly, I remembered something else about the Sirens. Their singing was dangerous because they told you the deepest truths about yourself. Their true power was that of knowledge—their knowledge of what mattered most to you.

It was that very knowledge I had been pondering about. If I could have that chance now to find out … well, how many opportunities like this were ever going to present themselves to me?

I knew it was incredibly risky. If I had been on this journey alone, I couldn't have dared try it. But I had Percy with me—he could tie me up so I couldn't get off the ship. I'd listen to the Siren song with its dangerous, tantalising truths, but the wouldn't be able to lure me away. It would probably be an uncomfortable experience, as I'd have to be tied up really tight, but I'd come away with the knowledge I sought: a better understanding of myself. I could become wiser, better able to guard against the deceptions of others.

My mind made up, I went below deck to find Percy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I stole some of dialogue not just from _Sea of Monsters_ but also _Titan's Curse_. That's the fun thing about demigod dreams. They don't always follow the same timeline. (Also, I felt bad that Annabeth had to miss that particular showdown!) Anyway, I figured if Percy can dream of Thalia and Kronos, so can Annabeth!


	19. I Attend A Concert Of Illusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth tests herself against Siren song and gets more than she bargained for.

Percy looked sceptical when I told him my plan. He was all for stopping up our ears with wax and sailing past in blissful ignorance. But then, he'd never been one to seek out esoteric knowledge. He'd never really gotten why I tortured myself with so much reading. 

'Please,' I said. ' _You'll_ be fine—you'll have your ears blocked so it won't affect you at all. And I'll be tied up so no matter how tempting the Siren song is, I'll be safe. It's a foolproof plan.'

'Well, okay,' he said finally.

'Hurry, then. We're getting close,' I said. The island was near enough now to make out the jagged coastline, lined with sharp black rocks that must have wrecked thousands of hapless, unwary sailors over the centuries. Percy set me up at the largest ship mast and lashed me to it by my waist. He made the ropes tie themselves off in dead knots that he'd probably have to cut me out of later.

'Don't untie me no matter what happens or how much I plead,' I warned him. I guess he knew the danger, but I thought it better to cover all my bases anyway.

He joked around a bit, but said at the end, 'I'll keep you safe.'

I believed it. I trusted him.

It was myself I shouldn't have trusted.

The music felt a bit like Circe's singing at first: a melody so old and magical it stirred the depths of my soul. But it was a thousand times more potent than anything Circe could come up with. It wasn't just music—there was life woven into the melody, like it had its own spirit. 

Imagine taking the most tantalising scent you can imagine, the most charming voice you can hear, the most inviting caress and the most stunning vision, and then translating that into one song. And that still doesn't come quite close to describing what the Sirens' song was like. 

It filled all my senses at once with a thrill that was otherworldly yet familiar at the same time. It wrapped around me like a cocoon of warmth and light, but it hovered, like a cosy blanket that was just inches from settling snugly around my shoulders. I knew that I could only have it if I got to the source of that music, on the island. I needed to get there, to reach everything those voices were promising me. 

What were these bonds holding me back, though? I was being cruelly held captive, prevented from running to the place where I would be safe, where I would be home, where everyone and everything I loved was pleading with me to _come home, Annabeth, come home_.

I had to escape. Percy had to let me go, he had to understand. He was my friend, he couldn't hold me back so cruelly. 

Yet he stood there with his arms crossed, my hard-hearted captor. 

I struggled harder against the ropes. Everything I wanted, everything that mattered, was on that island. I _had_ to get there.

_We're waiting for you_ , the song promised. _Listen to what awaits you here—you will achieve everything you can possibly dream of, and more that you thought impossible. You are the one who will make it a reality—everything the gods couldn't do: you will reunite your parents; for you they will make a union between mortal and goddess that will never be broken. The world will be rebuilt with your exquisite skill. Luke and Thalia will be as they once were, saved by your love and friendship. And Percy …_

I gasped at the beauty of this vision. For a moment it was so tantalisingly clear, it was almost like I was living in that wondrous future that I'd never even hoped to dream of, but was everything I wanted now.

But then it all seemed to grow fainter, like the beautiful world I'd been promised was disappearing, slipping through my fingers. We were sailing past the island and the song turned darker, a warning. If I missed this chance, I knew I would re-enter a bleak world. My father would be doomed to misery, detached from his goddess wife and demigod daughter. Luke would become a monster. Percy would turn on me and both boys I loved would die.

No. I couldn't let that happen.

Tears poured down my face. My voice was already hoarse from pleading, but I begged even harder to be set free. If I could only reach the island, I could save everyone.

_You must do this yourself_ , the music told me. _You are strong, are you not? You can forge your own destiny. You are the best at everything, after all …_

I had to get myself unbound. Percy was not going to help me—he was already turning away from me, becoming my enemy just as the song promised would happen if I sailed away. I wriggled desperately, hoping to loosen the ropes somehow. 

Something shifted against the skin of my thigh. My dagger. I'd completely forgotten about it. 

In a flash, I unsheathed it and sliced through the cruel ropes lashing me to the mast of the ship. I threw the knife aside and took a swan dive off the rails, exhilarated at my freedom. 

_I'm coming_ , I thought. _Mom, Dad, Luke, Percy—I will build you that perfect world on the island_.

The sea was rough and choppy with waves, but I barely noticed as I struggled my way across. As I got nearer to the island, I could see it: the perfect world I had created.

Last year, while in the magical Lotus Hotel, I'd built a dream city in an architecture arcade game that I'd called Annatopia. On the island, beyond the rocky beach, it was that city that awaited me, with its pristine marble structures and dazzling innovative monuments. I could see the arch I'd proudly designed, aligned with the sun's path across the sky.

Luke was standing in the middle of the central park with his arm around Thalia—Thalia, who was human again, looking as though she'd grown up right alongside Luke and me. She winked at me, her face animated and lively. 

' _Look what you built, Annabeth!_ ' she said, spreading her arms wide. ' _A world better than any other. A world of peace. You didn't just redesign the architecture, you improved the whole social structure … you're an architect of peace and prosperity!_ '

'You're here,' I said in wonder, barely noticing the saltwater that filled my mouth. 

Thalia nodded. ' _You found the Fleece and saved me_.'

Luke held his arms out to me. ' _Look_ ,' he said. ' _You've saved_ both _your families_.' He pointed and I could see my dad and my mother, Athena, holding hands on a picnic blanket. ' _You showed me that Kronos is not the way, that you were able to build the world better. You're better than the gods, better than the Titans_.'

'What about Percy?' I asked. My lungs were burning for some reason, but it didn't seem to matter. 

' _Oh, he's here,_ ' Thalia said, grinning. ' _Let me go get him. He's been longing to see you, too_.'

She slipped away and Luke took a seat on the picnic blanket, next to my parents, beckoning to me to join them.

My feet found sand. I pulled myself out of the surf onto the beach. Percy appeared before me, walking down the beach and staring at me with the utmost adoration. 

' _Annabeth_ ,' he said in a voice husky with emotion. ' _You're my only friend—the one and only person I trust, the only one I—_ '

Something yanked me back by the ankle just as my fingertips were so close to grazing his, and Percy disappeared.

'No!' I screamed, inhaling a stinging mouthful of seawater. I struggled against the arms that circled around me, trying to get back to the island, where I could still see Luke and my parents calling for me to come to them. I knew Percy and Thalia were somewhere beyond them, just out of sight. 

The water rose up and I was pulled beneath the waves. The vision vanished. I had the sudden disoriented feeling of having been shaken out of a really good dream, one that made me want to go back to sleep just so I could stay in it for longer. Also, I was choking and spluttering underwater and my lungs were on fire. I kicked desperately and my head managed to break the surface, where I took in a gasping breath of air. 

It came flooding back to me in a haunting melody: Luke, my parents, Thalia—all waiting for me in Annatopia. I yearned for it, but it slipped away again and I was confused because I could still picture it in my mind, everyone I loved safe in a city _I_ had created, a perfect world that _I_ was the architect of. Even though the song had been muted, I still had the lingering sensation of pride and satisfaction that had filled me when I first saw what I had achieved.

Except … that world was an illusion. It wasn't there any more. I had exchanged it … for what?

I blinked. Everything had vanished. I was alone at the bottom of the sea, although if that was the case, how was I breathing …?

Wait. No, I wasn't alone. There was Percy, his arm wrapped around my waist. For a moment I thought he was only the Sirens' illusion, but this Percy was no longer looking at me adoringly. His eyes were hard and desperate and dark. 

I felt like someone had torn a piece of my heart out and shattered it on the rocky cliffs of the Sirens' island. I knew somewhere in the back of my head that it was all just the magic of the Sirens' singing, that I hadn't _actually_ lost anything, but it still felt like I'd experienced something real—a perfect reality that I had traded in for … for what?

Everything hurt.

I wasn't aware of how hard I was crying until I felt firm arms encircle me comfortingly. Through a veil of tears, I saw Percy's face inches from mine, looking at me with deep concern. I cried into his shoulder, too heartbroken to feel embarrassed about clinging to him like this. He felt real and solid and dependable. He'd saved me from the Sirens—kept me safe like he'd promised, though at the moment I almost felt as though I would gladly have thrown myself to them just to continue living in their dream.

I finally lifted my head, but Percy didn't let go. He'd enclosed us in an air bubble, I realised. It was how I was still breathing while underwater.

He said, 'I'll get us back to the ship. It's okay. Just hang on.'

'I'm sorry,' I told him as he manoeuvred us upwards, staying just below the surface. I could hear snatches of Siren song, distorted through the water, and it felt like it was tearing me in half. It was more taunting now that I was retreating from it, promising me I would live to regret my choice. 

_You've traded in the dream for a nightmare_ , the Sirens sang. _Your choice, one fate for another_.

I was grateful for Percy's grip around my waist, a solid reminder of what was real. It gave me the strength to fight the despair that threatened to creep up on me as we swam away. As long as I still had him, I hadn't lost everything from my vision.

_Oh, but what have you sacrificed for it? Your parents reunited. Luke and Thalia saved._

'Shut up,' I said. 'It's not real. It _wasn't_ real.'

_But you could_ make _it real …_

We put enough distance between us and the island that the last traces of song faded away on that final, tempting note. It kept ringing in my head like the chorus of a popular song that gets stuck on replay: _you could make it real … make it real …_

Percy kept going a few more minutes underwater before he surfaced and steered us over to the ship, which was still chugging merrily away on autopilot. He gave me a boost up a rope ladder. I climbed onto the deck. Immediately I felt as drained as if I had fought ten Cyclopes in one-on-one combat. I collapsed in a heap on the foredeck. Percy draped a blanket over me and I wrapped it tightly around myself as though it were a talisman that could take away the images and promises that were still circling in my head. 

Percy hovered over me awkwardly and I felt bad for worrying him, but I couldn't shake off the weariness enough to get up and reassure him I was okay. He found my knife, left scattered on the deck, and placed it in my lap, saying, 'Sorry I didn't think about that.'

I nodded, though it wasn't really fair to blame him. We'd both been idiots, forgetting that my knife had still been on me, but really it was all my own fault. I'd wanted to know so badly what the Sirens could tell me. Now that I had, the illusion of the future I could have had on their island weighed so heavily on me, it all felt like a big mistake. It was foolish of me to have sought out the truth, so sure I could handle it, brashly assuming that the only damage the Sirens could do was physical.

It was _all_ part of my fatal flaw, I realised. My fatal flaw _wasn't_ my ambitions but what lay beneath them: my pride. The certainty that I could do anything better, _everything_ better than anyone else, whether it be handling the Sirens' fatal and emotionally destructive singing, or running the world of Annatopia.

As for my deepest desires … well, I had uncovered them, too, and they were all entwined with my fatal flaw. _You did it_ , Thalia and Luke had said. _You made it happen_. 

I thought of Luke telling me how I'd saved him, and I didn't know if it was still my fatal flaw in action when hope fluttered now in my heart, telling me that not everything I'd seen on that island had to be an illusion in the real world. What if I _could_ do better than Kronos and rescue Luke from the Titan lord's grip?

I pushed the thought away reluctantly. That kind of thinking would only get me in trouble. The idea that the old Luke might not be completely out of my grasp refused to die, though.

We sailed on steadily, leaving the island of the Sirens behind, but for better or worse, I didn't think I would ever forget what I'd learned there. 

Did knowing all this mean I was wiser? I still couldn't answer that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reference to Annabeth's dream city is from my previous story, [Daughter of Wisdom](http://shiikifics.livejournal.com/171356.html).


	20. We Crash A Wedding Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth and Percy arrive at their destination in time to break up Polyphemus's wedding plans.

As the Sirens' island faded into the distance, Percy sat next to me, cross-legged on the deck with his chin in his hands and the wax still sticking out of his ears.

'We're safe now,' I told him when he looked at me. He unplugged his ears and shook his head as though clearing it.

'You okay?' he said after a while.

I shrugged. The Sirens' song was still haunting me and I didn't think that was going to go away for a long time yet. There wasn't much I could do about it, though.

'I didn't realise,' I said, 'how powerful the temptation would be.'

Percy's face went pink. 'Um,' he said tentatively, 'I saw the way you rebuilt Manhattan. And Luke and your parents.'

'You saw that?' I looked down at my hands, embarrassed. If he'd seen that ... oh gods, had he seen the way he'd appeared to me on the island, too?

If he had, he didn't mention it. 'What Luke told you back on the _Princess Andromeda_ ,' he said, 'about starting the world from scratch ... that really got too you, huh?'

I latched gratefully onto the subject. 'My fatal flaw—that's what the Sirens showed me. My fatal flaw is hubris.'

'That brown stuff they spread on veggie sandwiches?'

I didn't know if he was just joking around to make me feel better, but it did lift my spirits a bit.

'No, Seaweed Brain. That's _hummus_. Hubris is worse.'

'What could be worse than hummus?'

I explained the meaning of hubris. 'It's thinking you can do things better than anyone else …' I swallowed, hearing Luke's voice again: _you're better than the gods, better than the Titans_.

'You feel that way?' He sounded so surprised. I had thought most demigods would understand. I mean, wasn't a bit of that arrogance common to all heroes? Luke had it, Clarisse had it … wasn't it what pushed him to take on this quest?

'Don't you ever feel like, what if the world really _is_ messed up? What if we could do it all over again from scratch?' _You're an architect of peace and prosperity_ , I heard Thalia saying. 

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. 

Percy's eyes glazed over a little when I tried to describe the bigger world issues I could think of to change, so I cast around for something smaller, something closer to home that I would make better. 'No more summer reading homework,' I said pointedly.

He sat up a little straighter. 'I'm listening.'

I smiled. 'I mean, the West represents a lot of the best things mankind ever did.' It had managed to go on for three thousand years after all, carrying the torch of Olympus all this time. But the bad stuff that came together with our civilisation … that was the problem. There was always enough of it, so much of it that you _could_ point to it and say, _I could do it better_.

I guess that was what Luke meant when he'd talked about building a new age. Only he was going about it the wrong way, siding with Kronos. Still, the place where it all came from … the Sirens had shown me that it lived in me, too. Even thinking that _I_ would go about it better than Luke—was that also my hubris talking? Or did everyone just feel like that when they noticed something wrong with the world?

'Don't you ever feel that way? Like _you_ could do a better job if you ran the world?'

'Um … no,' Percy declared. 'Me running the world would kind of be a nightmare.'

I didn't know if he really believed that. I decided to take his word for it. It was true that Percy never did seem to suffer from an excess of pride. He didn't take himself seriously enough for it.

'You're lucky,' I told him. 'Hubris isn't your fatal flaw.'

'What is?'

I considered this, but I couldn't really put my finger on it. He was reckless and impulsive, and those could be detrimental. They were obvious flaws, though. I felt like his real fatal flaw, like mine, was probably something more insidious. 

'I don't know, Percy,' I said at last. 'But every hero has one. If you don't find it and learn to control it … well, they don't call it "fatal" for nothing.'

That made me think of the heroes I knew of who had hubris as their fatal flaw: Atalanta, believing her speed was unmatched and could not be overcome by anyone … or anything. Bellerophon, who thought he could fly Pegasus straight to Olympus to a welcome from the gods. Had they known about their fatal flaw and tried to guard against it, or had it taken them unawares when it proved to be their downfall?

'So,' Percy said, 'was it worth it? Do you feel … wiser?'

Lost in thought about fatal flaws, it took me a second to realise he was asking about the Sirens.

'I'm not sure,' I said. Yes, it was helpful to know what I had to guard against, but what if the result was just doubting myself at every step, wondering if I was falling prey to hubris? The real problem was, pride in itself wasn't always a bad thing. It gave me confidence, it helped me tackle problems that might otherwise seem insurmountable. How was I supposed to know when my pride in my abilities was an overextension? What could I be sure of?

I tried to think of something I _could_ feel sure about. _Saving the camp_ , I thought. _Stopping Luke_.

As if to say, _yes, let's get on with that_ , land appeared on the horizon.

When I pointed this out, Percy murmured the co-ordinates from the Grey Sisters. My heart started to race. At last, we were here. The home of the most bloodthirsty Cyclops in history. I had to dig deep for my courage, wishing that I hadn't just been warned against pride right before arriving. I could do with some of my confidence before heading into battle with a Cyclops.

Maybe I should have considered this before throwing myself into a tumultuous encounter with the Sirens—again, courtesy of my fatal flaw, believing I could handle anything, no problem.

I was starting to see how this fatal flaw business could be a real double-edged sword.

Polyphemus's island was different from the others we'd seen. If we'd been in the mortal world, I'd have been amazed at how all these islands within the same geographical area could vary so much in their landscape, but within magical places, natural rules didn't really apply. 

The beaches were as beautiful and clean as those on Circe's island, but they led up to hills with thick tropical forest. Not a single dwelling was in sight. The dominating feature of the island was a chasm in the centre that split it in two, as though a giant deer had formed the island by leaving its cloven footprint in the sea. On the far side, it formed a steep drop-off into the water, but the near side sloped more gently and a path led up from the meadows at the base, just beyond the beach. 

Fresh air blew towards us, clean and sweet-smelling. It smelt like fresh nectar, or maybe ambrosia brought to life: a healing scent that engulfed the entire island and its surrounding waters. Just taking it into my lungs made me feel invigorated. 

I knew immediately that we had found the right place.

The Fleece hung on the biggest oak tree at the edge of our side of the canyon. From this distance, it was nothing but a small speck of gold, but I knew that had to be it. The tree itself was larger than life, with leaves so green they were almost painful to look at, and golden acorns the size of coconuts. Sheep dotted the hill and lower meadows, fat and plump and so well-fed on Fleece-enhanced grass that they'd grown to the size of rhinoceroses. 

There was no other living creature in sight.

Percy said, 'This is too easy. We could just hike up there and take it.'

It couldn't be that easy. There was something we were missing, something I thought I knew, only I couldn't put a finger on it just now. 'There's supposed to be a guardian,' I said dubiously. Jason had had to battle the Colchian dragon when _he_ retrieved the Fleece.

Just then, a deer came cantering out into the meadow. It had barely poked its head out from the bushes when the peacefully grazing sheep swarmed it. The deer disappeared in a cloud of fluffy wool, and when the sheep scattered mere seconds later, there was nothing but a gleaming cervine skeleton.

_Man-eating sheep_ , I thought, feeling stupid for not putting it together sooner. Ethel's delivery. He'd _said_ they were going to a Cyclops down south. 

I shuddered as I remembered the metallic tearing noises they'd made in the truck to Wilmington. Never mind man-eating. These were crazed, flesh-eating piranhas of sheep. 

'Piranhas with wool,' Percy agreed. 'How will we—'

It was then that I spotted the lifeboat. Tucked in a little cove at the base of the meadow, the other rubber dinghy from Clarisse's battleship was moored in a patch of sand. 

'Percy, look!' I said. 'Someone else is here.'

If it was Clarisse, she clearly hadn't gotten the Fleece yet. It was still sparkling in the sun at the top of the meadow. I hoped the sheep hadn't eaten her. There was no tell-tale pile of human bones, so I didn't think they had, but then where was she?

I turned my attention back to the Fleece. 'I could sneak up,' I mused. 'I have the invisibility cap.' There didn't seem to be any other way to get through the sheep, not if they attacked anything that moved.

'No,' Percy said. 'That could go waaaay wrong. What if they smell you? Or if they aren't the only thing—we don't know what's in that ravine. And if you get attacked in the middle of piranha sheep I won't be able to help.'

I raised my eyebrows and tapped my dagger. 'What makes you think I'll need you to help?' 

He blushed a little, but kept looking obstinately at me. 'It's too dangerous.'

I sighed and reminded myself that believing I could do it on my own was probably an example of hubris. 'Fine, what's your plan, then?'

'We go round the other side. Maybe we can find a way up from there that _doesn't_ go through sheep.'

I looked dubiously at the cleft in the island. A rickety-looking rope bridge was the only thing that connected the two ridges of the ravine.

'Besides, we need to find Grover and … whoever was in the lifeboat.' His voice took on a hopeful note, and I wondered who he expected to see. I didn't think he was that fond of Clarisse that he'd be this happy to find her. 'We can't see them from here, so they're probably on the other side.'

He steered us around the back of the island, where the cliff face ran vertically down to the narrow, rocky beach. It looked to be about sixty feet high, with mossy crags that would make barely decent handholds.

'You want us to climb that?' I said. The climbing wall was probably my least favourite training activity at camp. I could do it well, of course; I'd made certain to excel at all the training stations, even ones I hated, but some activities were just more torturous than others. The cliff face looked as treacherous as the camp wall, only much higher.

At least this one probably didn't have lava chasing us up if we didn't climb fast enough.

Percy looked as though he was close to reconsidering his idea, but he just said, 'Well, it's sheep-free.'

I sighed. 'All right, Seaweed Brain. Let's get climbing.'

Our progress was slow. My arms were aching from the strain before we even got halfway, but by that time we were so high, there wasn't much of a choice. Letting go wasn't an option, and climbing back down would hurt just as much. I gritted my teeth and kept going, thinking again how much I hated climbing. Whenever I'd complained about the lava climbing wall, wondering what use it was in fighting monsters, Chiron had smiled like he knew better. Scaling the cliff now, I guess he'd been right. 

Once again, I missed him terribly. My mind wandered back to what he meant to tell us when we'd last spoke, about what to do when we found the Golden Fleece.

My foot slipped, finding Percy's face. He gave a startled grunt, but fortunately kept his handholds.

'Sorry!' I said, and forced myself to concentrate better. We had to first get to the top of this infernal cliff. _Then_ we could get the Fleece, reverse the damage to Thalia's tree and with luck, get Chiron pardoned, too. 

_Or maybe that's your hubris talking, thinking you can solve it all_ , a small, sinister voice in my mind said. 

_Shut up_ , I told it.

We reached the top and found ourselves on a narrow strip of rock overlooking the entrance to a cave. The scene before me was strikingly familiar: a girl trussed up in rope hanging upside down over a large pot of boiling water while an enormous Cyclops looked on in amusement. 

Polyphemus hadn't gagged Clarisse, though, and she was yelling at the top of her voice. 'I'll fight you!'

Tied up and weaponless, I didn't see how she stood a chance, but that was Clarisse for you.

Polyphemus laughed at her. He was the biggest Cyclops I'd ever seen, taller than his son in Brooklyn and at least twice as wide. Around his waist was a horrible pastel-blue kilt which rose up to cover his protruding gut and draped around one beefy shoulder. I wondered if it was the Fleece's magic that had helped him grow so big. 

'Hmm, eat loudmouth girl now or wait for wedding feast?' he said. 

_Wedding feast_?

'What does my bride think?' He turned to a short, veiled figure next to him, clad in a voluminous bridal gown with an extended golden train. I realised with a jolt that it was Grover, looking just as Percy had described from his dreams—disguised as a lady Cyclops bride. He would have made a comical sight if he hadn't been backing away from the gaze of Polyphemus's gigantic eye. It was scarred and milky with cataracts, but it glistened with evil malice. The sight of it struck fear deep into my heart. 

Grover stammered something in high-pitch falsetto. Clarisse twisted around in her bonds and stared at him.

'Did you say _bride_? Who—Grover?'

I nearly slapped my forehead in frustration. 'Shut up,' I whispered, though she'd never hear me. 'She has to shut up!' But it was probably impossible for a daughter of Ares to understand deceptive strategy. In a few quick and thoughtless words, she gave Grover away completely. 

Polyphemus tore away the wedding veil. Beneath it, Grover looked so pale, I thought he was going to faint.

Polyphemus glared at Grover. 'I don't see very well—not since many years ago when the other hero stabbed me in the eye. But …' he squinted and then roared, 'you're no lady Cyclops!'

_The other hero … Odysseus!_ I thought. The strategist who had fought Polyphemus and tricked him into believing 'Nobody' did it. 

Polyphemus grabbed a boulder like he was going to knock Grover out, but Grover yelled, 'Stop! Don't eat me raw! I—I have a good recipe!' 

Next to me, I felt Percy rummage for his pen-sword. I put my hand on his arm.

'Wait,' I told him. Grover was spinning some story about the dangers of raw meat and the deliciousness of mango chutney. It was a good delaying tactic, which I approved of. With a monster like Polyphemus, brute force wasn't going to work. That was probably what had gotten Clarisse in trouble. We had to be like Odysseus: sneaky and clever. Polyphemus might be powerful, but it was clear intelligence was not one of his strengths. 

Polyphemus considered Grover's proposition and finally came to the conclusion that he'd eat him later. After marrying Clarisse.

Which kind of just proved my point about him not being very bright.

Then again, given how indiscreet she'd been about Grover's identity, neither was Clarisse, really. All the same, we had to rescue them. 

Polyphemus picked both of them up by the scruffs of their shirts and tossed them like rag dolls into his cave. He whistled and a whole flock of sheep and goats came trotting out of the cave mouth. These were more normal-sized than the man-eating sheep out in the meadow, but they looked plump and well-fed nonetheless. Polyphemus rolled a boulder over the cave entrance, sealing Grover and Clarisse inside, and waddled off to graze his herd.

Percy and I rushed for the boulder. It was enormous, at least ten feet in diameter, and try as we might, we couldn't budge it. I thought regretfully of Tyson, for whom it probably wouldn't have been a challenge, but of course he was long gone. I guess it was a little ironic that I would miss a Cyclops while facing another one—and I certainly never thought I'd see the day I'd wish for a Cyclops's help—but I found that I didn't really think 'Cyclops' any more when I thought of him … just 'Tyson'.

We tried for maybe fifteen minutes before we had to concede defeat. Polyphemus would return any time now; he was on the far side of the island, across the rope bridge connecting the two sides of the central chasm, feeding his piranha sheep. He'd be back once he finished with them. We needed a strategy.

'We can't beat him by force,' I said, 'so we'll have to use trickery.'

'Okay,' Percy said. He looked a little green as he watched Polyphemus weave through the man-eating sheep, throwing them bloody meat to tear into. 'What trick?'

'Um.' That was the challenge, wasn't it? 'I haven't figured that part out yet.'

'Great.'

'Well … Polyphemus will have to move the rock to let the sheep inside,' I reasoned. That would be our only chance to get Grover and Clarisse out.

'At sunset. Which is when he'll marry Clarisse and have Grover for dinner. I'm not sure which is grosser.'

I rolled my eyes. He was missing the point. 'I could get inside invisibly.'

'What about me?'

I frowned. That was the flaw in the plan—unless Percy could keep Polyphemus occupied outside, I wasn't going to have much luck getting Grover and Clarisse out past him. But sending Percy to distract Polyphemus was likely to get him killed.

It had to be the other way round. I needed to stay outside, invisible, to distract Polyphemus. How would we get Percy inside unnoticed, though? 

I cast around for inspiration and my eyes landed on the normal flock, grazing on the cave side of the rope bridge, safely away from the carnivorous bunch. An idea started to form.

'How much do you like sheep?'

Percy looked at me warily. 'Depends on what you're planning with them.'

My first idea was to disguise Percy as one of the sheep. I'd sort of been inspired by Circe turning people into animals and Grover masquerading as a lady Cyclops. Unfortunately, as much loose wool as I managed to drape over him, he still looked distinctly like a boy crawling on his hands and legs. Seeing him crouched next to the sheep gave me another idea, though.

'Get down underneath one,' I told him.

'What?'

'Crawl under its belly and then hook yourself in. You've got wool all over you already, if you just hang on to the underside of a sheep, you can ride it inside. Get to Grover and Clarisse. I'll stay out, invisible, and distract him, keep him from closing the door.' I explained the rest of my plan.

'You've got to be kidding,' Percy muttered, but he wedged himself under the sheep's belly and grabbed hold. He rose off the ground and clung to its wool the way I'd once seen a baby sloth hanging upside down from its mother's hair on _National Geographic_.

'Perfect,' I said. 'Just don't let go!' 

I put my Yankees cap on and waited. The sun was hanging low in the sky now.

'Oy!' Polyphemus cried. The rope bridge swung as he made his way back to our side. 'Goaties! Sheepies!'

At the sound of his voice, the entire flock started to head back towards the cave. Percy's sheep disappeared into the fold. I couldn't see any sign of him, which was a good thing. I waited until every sheep had entered the cave, to make sure he'd definitely gotten in, before stepping out and shouting at Polyphemus.

'Hello, ugly!' I'd decided to pull a Percy and go for insulting him. I'd seen Percy do it many times—it always got the monsters' attention. And if Odysseus had tricked Polyphemus by pretending to be Nobody, well, then I would see if I could play on that, too.

The plan worked even better than I hoped. Polyphemus glared around as soon as I spoke, his attention diverted from the open cave entrance. When I claimed to be Nobody, he turned livid.

'Nobody! I remember you!'

'You're too stupid to remember anybody, much less Nobody!' I yelled.

He howled and flung the boulder that had blocked the cave towards me, navigating by the sound of my voice. The rock sailed over my head and hit the side of the cliff and shattered, to my delight. He'd have to find himself another boulder to shut the cave back up. All I had to do now was lead Polyphemus himself away from the entrance so Percy could get Clarisse and Grover out of there.

I moved towards the meadow. 'You haven't learned to throw any better, either!' I called back.

Polyphemus took a few steps forward. 'Come here! Let me kill you, Nobody!'

'You can't kill Nobody, you stupid oaf! Come find me!'

He made a grab in front of him, but he was too far away. Growling, he stumbled after me.

I led him all the way to the rope bridge, thinking frantically of taunts to use. I was mostly repeating them after the first couple—honestly, Percy was the one who could think up the really good insults, not me—but it didn't seem to matter. Polyphemus raged and chased after my voice, coming dangerously close sometimes, but I managed to stay out of his reach.

I backed up against the bridge, the sudden brilliant idea coming to me that maybe I could trick Polyphemus into retrieving the Fleece for us. If he could just bring it back through the man-eating sheep, I might be able to snatch it up. It'd be dangerous, but if it worked …

'You're too stupid to even know how to work that Fleece on the trees properly!' I shouted. 'And that's the only thing that can kill Nobody!'

'I will kill Nobody!' Polyphemus declared. 

I shouted across the ravine, trying to make my voice sound like it was carrying from over the bridge, 'Oh yeah? Come and get me, then! I'm on the other side of the bridge, stupid!'

Polyphemus charged up to the bridge and I had to skip backwards to avoid his flailing arms.

'Nobody is here!' he snarled. 'Nobody is not on the other side.'

His hearing was really a lot sharper than I had given him credit for. His horrible eyesight must have meant he had plenty of experience navigating using the sound of things. I was just thinking that I had to be careful with that when I tripped over a loose rock. For one terrifying moment, I thought I might plunge over the side of the ravine, but I caught my balance and fell back on the meadow side. 

Quick as a whip, Polyphemus's arm swiped through the air and snatched me up by the ankle. My head scraped across the rock that had tripped me, so hard that my vision blurred. 

I should have remembered that being invisible wasn't that much of an advantage when dealing with an enemy that was already nearly blind.

'I got Nobody!' Polyphemus crowed. I hung upside down from his hand as he walked back up to his cave, which didn't help with the dizziness. He flicked me several times and my cap came flying off. 'Hah! Nasty invisible girl. Already got feisty one for wife. Means you gotta be roasted with mango chutney!'

I almost couldn't make sense of this. My forehead felt moist and sticky. I thought I was about to throw up. The swaying as Polyphemus moved was making me see double: two cave entrances, two pots of boiling water.

Then I heard Percy cry out: 'Hey, Ugly!'

Polyphemus spun so fast, I got whiplash. ' _Another_ one? Who are you?'

'Put down my friend,' Percy yelled. ' _I'm_ the one who insulted you.'

_Oh no_ , I thought, _this isn't how it's supposed to go_.

Polyphemus released my ankle and for a second I was falling through the air. Then my head hit something solid. I felt a sharp burst of pain, my vision exploded into stars, and then the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was fun because at last, Annabeth gets a scene on her own again! Also hello action sequence after a bunch of introspective chapters. :) Dialogue from the canon scenes is of course from _SoM_.


	21. I Acquire A New Cloak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth experiences the healing power of the Fleece first-hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned before that writing demigod dream sequences is one of my favourite things about writing in this fandom? I have so much fun with them. Points if you can spot all the references to different canon time points in this chapter!

My dream was jerky and disconnected, like I was watching one of those old box televisions from the nineties, with reception that fizzles and makes the screen go fuzzy. I could even hear the crackle of static.

Then I realised it wasn't static but a cackling laugh, low and pleased. Slowly, it gave way to a familiar gravelly hiss.

' _Yes_ ,' Kronos said, ' _successsss. Get the Fleece, my heroes. Get it, and bring it to me ..._ '

I couldn't see him or the sarcophagus in which he was reforming. All around me were pixelated black-and-white dots, like I was _in_ the television with the bad reception. The black dots grew larger until I was swallowed by darkness. My eyes adjusted slowly and I realised I was in a dark tunnel. It smelled like underground places tend to, wet and earthly. I heard footsteps and I backed up against the wall as someone came running through. 

It was Luke, holding a burning torch before him to light his way. His face was contorted like he was trying not to cry, and his mouth was moving as he ran, repeating a prayer over and over again. 

'Please, Kronos, help me make it right. Don't let us be too late. Please.'

'He can't help you!' I yelled, but he didn't hear me. I couldn't run fast enough to keep up with him. His light disappeared along the tunnel and his footsteps faded. 

I didn't know where I was. I reached a split in the tunnel, a crossroads, and I picked one at random. I was trying to navigate a maze with no clue where I was headed. Around one corner, I saw an old man sitting at a workbench with his head slumped over his arms. Then I was flying around another turn where a young girl who looked no more than fifteen shivered under a starry sky. She reached her hand out as though trying to touch the stars. 

'I can see the stars, my lady,' she whispered. 

Another turn and there was a river in an undersea cavern. Percy stood at the edge of it. He looked older, though it was so dark that I couldn't be sure. His face was grim and he looked like he was trying to make a difficult decision. 

I kept going, hurtling through the twist and turns in the labyrinth of my dream. At one point, Prof Daly appeared by my side, saying, 'It's got a life of its own, you know. The Labyrinth is living, breathing architecture.'

And then I emerged into fresh air. When I glanced back over my shoulder, it looked as though I had just come out of Polyphemus's cave. But the woods around me were full of perennials and evergreens rather than tropical trees. 

I was back at Camp Half-Blood, and a fire was blazing in the distance. It grew larger before my eyes, like I was looking at it through a camera lens and I'd just hit the zoom button. 

I stood at the edge of the woods watching scenes playing in front of me like they were on the highlight reel of a movie. A _Draco Aionius_ , an immortal dragon, flew overhead as campers ran around screaming. The Apollo archers shot a volley of arrows at it but they bounced right off its scaly hide. The dragon blew out a column of purple flame, setting the arts and crafts cabin on fire.

'It's fine, it's fine!' Tantalus screamed, but no one was listening to him. The _Draco Aionius_ swooped and snatched up three campers in its claws. Time sped up once it flew off. I watched the arts and crafts cabin burn to the ground. I saw the infirmary in the Big House fill up with campers, some wrapped in full-body bandages. Half the Apollo cabin were moving around the beds, wrapping wounds and feeding the injured nectar and ambrosia. My siblings Celia and Malcolm came in, carrying Katie Gardner on a stretcher. Will Solace looked harried as he directed them to a bed. He glanced out the window with a pained look and I saw a row of five campers laid on the ground outside the Big House with burial shrouds covering their bodies. Beckendorf and Silena stood over one body in a bright pink shroud. He had a hand on her shoulder. Tears fell freely down her cheeks.

I saw Thalia's tree wilting worse than ever. Fewer than twenty leaves remained on the boughs. A deadly-looking crack travelled all the way up the trunk from the puncture wound where Luke had jabbed the poison. It looked like the tree was about to split in half down that crack and fall. 

Anita Hawthorne stood with the satyr Perry Barkwell at the base of the tree, carrying all her belongings on her back. She shook her head at Perry and said, 'I don't care if I'm expelled. The camp is no better than the outside world. I may be safer out there after all. I may as well go back to my family.'

Then I was on the deck of the canoe lake with Percy floundering in the water in front of me, looking completely bewildered. I bent down and held my hand out to him.

'Come on, take my hand,' I said.

Our fingers touched and the scenes sped up even faster than, becoming flashes of images on a screen, changing so quickly that I couldn't make sense of any single one. A girl with silvery hair and chains around her hands and feet struggled with a boulder on her shoulders. Percy gasped underwater like he was drowning. A volcano exploded. Tyson's calf-brown eye blinked slowly at me. Grover stood trembling in his wedding veil. 

The whirlwind slide show froze on that last image. The veil lifted and Grover's scared face looked out. 

'I do,' he said, and I wanted to shout, _no, are you crazy? You can't marry a Cyclops!_

My eyes flew open.

Grover's face was hovering over mine, though he wasn't waring bridal clothes any more. He grinned at me.

'You're not ... married?' I said stupidly. 

'No,' he said. 'My friends talked me out of it.'

'Annabeth.' I realised Percy was holding my hand. He dropped it quickly when I looked down at it. 'Just lay still,' he said, sounding worried.

I tried to get my bearings. Something thick and heavy was draped around my shoulders, but it also felt soft and fluffy and it smelt heavenly, like freshly mown grass and newly fallen autumn leaves. I sat up and ran my hands over the sparkling golden wool.

I was wearing the Fleece. Percy had gotten it and I was the first thing he'd used it on. 

I guess Polyphemus must have really knocked me out good, but all I felt was energised, the way you might feel after a really good night's sleep. Maybe a little achy, but in a good way, like the soreness you get after working out the day before. I could feel dried blood on my face, but the cut on my forehead that it must have come from was healed up, with only a faint trace of a scar.

Percy, Grover, and Clarisse were all hovering around me, as though I was their only concern. Then I heard the Cyclops's voice in the distance, but it sounded different, not like Polyphemus. There was no anger in it, and it felt more familiar. A good sort of familiar.

'No, sheepies,' the Cyclops said. I realised we we were on the wrong side of the rope bridge, which was now not so much a bridge as a rope trailing down the ravine. We were on the side of the island where the Fleece had hung, guarded by the man-eating sheep. They were now crowding around the Cyclops in their midst and he was waving them to him. 'This way! Come here!'

' _Tyson_?' I gasped. 

'Yeah,' Percy said. 'He showed up.' His eyes narrowed, as though daring me to complain.

'That's great,' I said, and I meant it. Percy's face broke into a grin.

'He totally saved our lives,' Percy said. ' _And_ he got the Fleece.'

'What happened to Polyphemus?'

'Can we talk about this later?' Clarisse said. 'Those sheep aren't going to stay occupied for long.'

'Right, yeah—we have to go. Our ship is ...' Percy frowned and looked across the chasm of the ravine. There was no longer a way across. 'Tyson! Can you lead the flock as far away as possible?'

'The sheep want food!' Tyson yelled back.

'I know,' Percy said. 'They want people food! Just lead them away from the path. Give us time to get to the beach. Then join us there.'

Tyson dutifully led the sheep off to the far side of the meadow. Percy looked at me.

'Keep the Fleece around you. Just in case you're not fully healed yet. Can you stand?'

I thought I could, until a sharp pain in my side made me wince. I couldn't feel it if I stayed still, but when I twisted it felt like someone had punched me in the chest. I thought I might not even be feeling the full extent of the damage, thanks to the Fleece. I wondered just how badly hurt I'd been before Percy had laid it on me.

Clarisse knelt by my side and prodded my chest expertly, like she knew exactly what she was looking for. One of her pokes exacerbated the pain, making it feel like she'd plunged a dagger between my ribs. 

'Ribs broken,' she pronounced. 'They're mending, but definitely broken.'

'How can you tell?' Percy said.

'Because I've broken a few, runt!' Clarisse snapped. 'I'll have to carry her.'

Whatever else I might say about Clarisse, she was strong. She hefted me, Fleece and all, onto her shoulders as though I weighed no more than a bag of rice. The motion jarred my broken rib, making me gasp, but once I was settled over her shoulders like an absurd-looking scarf, the jostling was quite minimal as she jogged down to the beach. 

Percy ran ahead of us, sprinting to the water's edge where he stepped into the surf and held his hands out, palms down.

'What's he doing?' Clarisse grunted. 'My lifeboat is …' Her voice trailed off as she stared at the spot where we'd seen her lifeboat aground when we first approached the island. The tide had come up since and the boat was gone. 

'We have a ship,' I said. 'We moored on the cliffs on the other side, but I think Percy's bringing it round now.'

Sure enough, the wide sails of our eighteenth century vessel came into sight around the cliffs.

'Come on,' Percy said. He led the way to where the beach met the ravine. 

From up the hill, Tyson shouted something. I looked back to see him dashing down the meadow, pursued by the flock of carnivorous sheep. They had evidently lost interest in his distraction. 

'Oh crap,' Grover said. Our ship was still at least fifty feet out, and it probably couldn't come any closer without running aground in the shallows.

'They probably won't follow us into the water—all we have to do is swim for the ship,' Percy said.

'With Annabeth like this?' Clarisse shifted my weight on her shoulders.

'I'll be fine,' I said. It would probably be easier on Clarisse, too, if we were in the water. She wouldn't be bearing my whole weight then.

'We can do it,' Percy agreed. 'Once we get to the ship, we're home free.'

We plunged into the surf. Just as Percy predicted, the sheep avoided the water and turned back, bleating in frustration. Unfortunately, they weren't the only things after us. We were barely ten feet from the shore, wading through at knee-height, when Polyphemus showed up out of the cleft in the island, looking murderous with a boulder in each hand. 

'Swim for it!' Grover yelled. He splashed forward and broke into a frantic, messy front crawl. Clarisse swore and dragged me along with powerful strokes. It hurt worse than anything I'd ever felt before, but I tried to help, clinging to her neck with one hand and paddling feebly with the other. The Fleece was still working its protective magic on me, hopefully preventing this exertion from doing more damage than it otherwise would, but it was also a waterlogged dead weight around my shoulders.

We made slow progress through the water. I didn't dare look back. I could hear Polyphemus's roar of outrage, fortunately still a fair way back. At last, we reached the ship. The rope ladder Percy had sent down when he'd rescued me from the Sirens was still there.

'Percy, come on!' Clarisse shouted.

I looked back. To my horror, I saw that Percy and Tyson were still on the beach, facing off against Polyphemus. They had hung back to make sure Clarisse, Grover, and I got away first with the Fleece.

'Get on the ship, Annabeth,' Clarisse ordered. 

'But—Percy—'

She heaved me back onto her shoulders with a loud grunt and started to climb. Grover had clambered up first and he helped Clarisse swing me over the rails. I collapsed on the deck and watched helplessly as Percy and Tyson circled Polyphemus on the shore. Percy had drawn his sword and he was calling on the sea to help him, riding waves surfer-style to dance around Polyphemus. They were playing a deadly game of keep-away, with Percy trying to stab the Cyclops while Polyphemus alternately attempted to grab him and smash at him with an uprooted tree.

'Young one!' Polyphemus bawled. 'Where are you? Help me!'

Tyson, who had been creeping up on Polyphemus from behind, his fist raised like a boxer in a starting stance, froze. I felt like my heart was in my throat. This was the moment I had previously expected, based on my suspicion that Tyson would show his true nature eventually and turn on Percy. Except I'd come to believe by now that Cyclops or not, Tyson's true nature _was_ good, that he _was_ on our side. He wouldn't listen to Polyphemus … would he?

If he defected now, Percy didn't stand a chance, not against _two_ Cyclopes.

My heart thudded in my chest. I hated that I wasn't down there fighting alongside Percy.

Polyphemus cried out again, appealing to his and Tyson's shared nature, promising to help Tyson overcome his flawed upbringing.

Tyson unclenched his fists and raised them in what looked like a gesture of surrender. He said something I couldn't hear, and I realised a split second before Polyphemus acted that the giant Cyclops was just deceiving Tyson into revealing his location.

'No!' I yelled. 

Quick as a whip, Polyphemus smacked his tree-club into Tyson. It slammed Tyson twenty feet back, drawing a line straight through the sand. 

'Tyson!' Percy cried. He leapt impossibly high and brought Riptide down, straight across Polyphemus's groin. Somehow, Tyson managed to drag himself to his feet and charge at Polyphemus. Together, they brought the evil Cyclops to his knees. For a second, Percy stood with his sword poised to plunge into Polyphemus's heart while Tyson pinned him down. Then, inexplicably, he jumped aside. Tyson shoved Polyphemus away and the pair of the ran for the water.

'No! Kill him, you idiots!' Clarisse howled.

I almost agreed with her, but I thought I understood why he'd let Polyphemus go. Percy was being so damnably _noble_.

As long as he and Tyson made it to the ship, I didn't really care.

Polyphemus rose, groaning, with his hand covering his eye. A line of blood trickled down from where he was cupping. 'I will smash you!' he bawled, but as he was stumbling around blind and injured, it no longer sounded very threatening.

'Ha, I'd like to see you try!' Clarisse gloated. Polyphemus hurled his club at the water, where Percy and Tyson were already halfway to the ship. Despite his bulk, Tyson sliced through the waves as gracefully as Percy—at ease in the water as only a son of Poseidon could be. The club splashed uselessly into the sea, missing Percy and Tyson entirely. 

'Got him in the eye,' Clarisse crowed. 'Yeah, Jackson!' She raised her voice loud enough to carry ashore. 'In your face, Cyclops!'

Enraged, Polyphemus flung another boulder. This one sank perilously close to Percy and Tyson, generating a wave that crashed over their heads. 

'Clarisse, stop!' I said, but she didn't pay any attention. She was in her element now. I guess it was inevitable. She'd been good and helpful for so long—there was no way it could last. 

Clarisse waved her fist as she taunted Polyphemus. 'You throw like a wimp! Teach you to try marrying _me_ , you idiot!'

' _You're_ being an idiot!' I said. 

From the water, twenty feet away, Percy screamed, 'Clarisse, shut up!'

Polyphemus gave an almighty roar. His next throw hit with deadly accuracy. A boulder the size of a cannonball smashed through the hull of our ship. 

'Clarisse, you crow-brained dolt!' I screamed. She cursed in Greek, realising her mistake too late as the ship tilted madly. Water poured into the hold. With a shudder, our ship submerged, taking us down into it. 

I gasped and spluttered, trying to stay afloat, but the water was like a whirlpool, sucking us straight down. Clarisse and Grover's heads bobbed near me and they seemed to be struggling as well, even though they didn't have a sixty-pound waterlogged Fleece weighing them down. I was going to drown first, with both the suction of the sinking ship and the Fleece dragging me below the surface. I couldn't make myself let go of the Fleece, though. We couldn't lose it.

I heard Percy shout my name, then my head slipped under. The thought, _I_ knew _a sea voyage was a bad idea_ flitted through my mind. Water filled my lungs, choking me. I kept kicking in a panic, though it was no use. I was going to die, drowned in the Sea of Monsters.

Then my flailing legs hit something solid. Something beneath me shot upwards and I was lifted with the Fleece back to the surface. I coughed and spluttered and gratefully filled my lungs with gasps of salty air. 

I was perched on the back of a hippocampus. The top of its multi-coloured scales shimmered around me. Percy was by its side, in the water, clinging onto its mane. The hippocampus whinnied softly as Percy swung himself on board behind me. It turned to look at us and although I couldn't speak horse like Percy, I got the distinct feeling that it was pretty proud of itself. 

Percy patted its scales. 'Thanks,' he said. He looked over to our right, where two more hippocampi had fished up Grover, Clarisse, and Tyson. 'Let's go!'

The hippocampi powered away and we sped off, leaving Polyphemus's triumphant roars behind. He seemed oblivious to the fact that we had escaped. 

I leaned forward against our hippocampus's neck, my chest throbbing. Percy adjusted the Fleece around my shoulders.

'You okay?'

I nodded, feeling the Fleece weave its magic around my beaten-up body. A wave of drowsiness engulfed me, as if I'd just taken a sleeping pill. My fingers grazed the edge of the Fleece.

'We,' I yawned, 'did it. We … got … the Fleece.'

My voice dropped to a whisper as the world started to fade out. I felt strong arms wrap around me and the whisper of lips against my ear. And then for the second time that day, I blacked out. 

This time, no dreams found me.


	22. We Split Up With Clarisse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth and the others make it out of the Sea of Monsters and figure out how to rush the Fleece home from Miami.

I awoke to a loud _BANG_. Startled, I sat bolt upright and scanned around for any immediate dangers.

There were none. My hippocampus was still speeding comfortably through the sea with Percy and me on its back. Two of its mates carried our friends, keeping pace about fifteen feet away. 

Ahead, the open sea glistened in the morning sun. Behind us was the shadow of two massive cliffs. Our wake trailed a path from the narrow strait between them. They were moving slowly towards each other, closing off the strip of water that ran through. 

With another clang, the cliffs smashed together like a pair of cymbals, throwing up an enormous wave. Slowly, they began to edge a part again.

I realised in awe that our hippocampi had taken us safely through the Clashing Rocks—the other entrance to the Sea of Monsters. We were back in mortal waters.

Percy had somehow slept through the din. He was leaning forward against the Fleece that was propped between us, one arm draped over it so that it was almost grazing my waist, the other hanging loosely by his side. His head lolled against my back. As usual, he was drooling in his sleep (though fortunately not on the Fleece or me). 

The sun was high enough in the sky that I couldn't tell what time it was. It could be anywhere from late morning to early afternoon. We'd obviously slept through the night. I felt fully rejuvenated and a quick examination of my ribs assured me I was completely healed. I stroked the Fleece gratefully and said a silent prayer to the gods that we'd all made it out safely.

The Clashing Rocks faded to specks on the horizon and then disappeared completely. For the first time since we'd embarked on our quest, I felt calm and relaxed. Maybe it was the comforting weight of the Fleece surrounding me, or the companionable roll of Percy's head against my shoulder. His messy black fringe fell into his eyes and I brushed it back fondly. His face was peaceful and for once, he wasn't muttering in his sleep. I hoped he was getting a good rest. He deserved it, after his battle with Polyphemus. 

For a while, I was content to just sit and enjoy the ride, absently stroking Percy's hair. Then I remembered the other two hippocampi speeding alongside with our friends and my hand flew quickly back to my side. Fortunately, none of them noticed what I'd been doing. 

Grover appeared to be having a conversation with his hippocampus. He was leaning forward and speaking, too softly for me to hear. His hippocampus's head swivelled back and forth as it responded. 

A little further off, Clarisse and Tyson were awake as well, riding the largest hippocampus. Its bulk was familiar—possibly it was the same one that had carried us to the _Princess Andromeda_ , the one Tyson had named Rainbow. Clarisse looked disgruntled to be riding with Tyson. She was perched as far back on Rainbow's fish body as she could be without slipping off. I wondered if she'd ridden like that all night. If she had, she must not have slept at all. 

Tyson accepted all this with good grace. He rode up close to Rainbow's neck, stroking his mane fondly and murmuring into his ear. Rainbow, unlike Clarisse, seemed perfectly happy with this. He whinnied occasionally and nuzzled Tyson like they were old friends.

I smiled at the sight. Clarisse might not have warmed up to him yet, but I wasn't going to be that stubborn. I'd spent enough time judging Tyson unfairly for what he was. From now on, I was resolved to take him for _who_ he was: a big softy who was unfailingly loyal to Percy and his friends, who had saved my life repeatedly even after I'd been mean to him.

This reminded me that I didn't know how Tyson had managed to survive the explosion of Clarisse's battleship, let alone show up to help us on Polyphemus's island. There was a lot I'd missed after I'd been dropped on my head—including how they'd gotten the Fleece.

'Grover!' I called.

Grover looked up mid-conversation and grinned at me. 'You okay, Annabeth? All healed up?'

'Yeah, the Fleece worked like a charm,' I said. 'What happened on the island? When I was out, I mean.'

Grover related the story: how Percy had fought Polyphemus and almost won, but then he'd gotten tricked by the Cyclops's deceptive voice and almost ended up eaten. 'That's when the other Cyclops—er, Tyler—?'

'Tyson.'

'Tyson,' Grover nodded, with a hasty glance at Rainbow's passengers, 'showed up and smacked Polyphemus with a big rock. He fell right off the cliff edge. I just about had a heart attack, but Percy seemed to know him. They had a whole conversation I didn't get, about the Cyclops following you guys after you got separated.' He looked lost, like he still couldn't fathom how or why we'd acquired a Cyclops on our team in the first place. 

' _Tyson_ ,' I said, 'is Percy's brother.' I explained briefly how Poseidon had claimed him at camp.

'Right,' Grover said, looking gobsmacked and even a little green, the way the other campers and I had been when we'd first had to accept Tyson as a camper. I felt ashamed of that now. 'Er—anyway,' Grover continued, 'Percy asked him to get the Fleece. _He_ got past the sheep, no problem. And then we used it to help you and, well, I guess you know the rest.'

I nodded. 'Thanks for saving me.'

Grover shook his head. 'Thanks for coming to save _me_. I thought I was going to be Cyclops chow!' His eyes darted nervously back to Tyson and Clarisse. The latter still looked cross. 'How come Clarisse came, though? Not that I'm not grateful for her help, but she was kind of the last person I was expecting.'

'It was the Fleece,' I admitted. 'We got Tantalus to approve the quest to save Thalia's tree and the camp.' I realised Grover wouldn't know any of that, since he'd already been gone when it all happened, so I gave him a watered-down version of it. 'So now we have to get the Fleece back to camp.'

I thought of my disjointed dream with the terrible scenes from camp and the heart-breaking image of Thalia's tree with the ominous crack down the trunk. How much time did we have to rescue it? Powerful as the Fleece was, I didn't think it could restore life if the tree was already dead.

I assumed the hippocampi knew where they were going—they seemed to be charging forward with purpose—but I didn't think they would be able to swim us all the way up to Long Island in time. We needed to get to the nearest shore and figure out a plan. 

Chiron had tried to tell us what to do once we got the Fleece, I remembered. If only we'd been able to hear his instruction …

I thought about calling him—the scales of our hippocampi made a natural rainbow—but I had no money for the offering to Iris. For now, we were still on our own. 

But we'd already achieved the most impossible parts of our quest: rescued Grover, retrieved the Fleece, escaped Polyphemus's island and gotten out of the Sea of Monsters alive. Surely the rest of it would be a piece of cake in comparison. And once we got back to camp, we could clear Chiron's name, both with the proof that he hadn't been responsible _and_ the means to heal Thalia's tree. I told myself that I'd see Chiron again soon enough.

Land started to come into view as sunset approached. A set of islands sat off the coast with a large bridge connecting them. I thought I recognised it from the opening of some television show—CSI Miami? In the bay, a fleet of of odd-looking boats with winged hulls and plastic sails were zipping about. 

The hippocampi slowed down and started whinnying nervously. Instead of approaching the beach line, they swam in circles and tossed their manes the way an anxious mare might. 

I shook Percy to wake him up.

'Whaa—' He blinked at the coast before us, with the setting sun illuminating the causeway bridge and the outline of the city buildings. 'Where—?'

'Miami, I think.' I was fairly sure that bridge was the Rickenbacker Causeway. 'But the hippocampi are acting funny.'

Our hippocampus sneezed. Percy frowned and cocked his head to one side as though listening. 

'Bad things in water!' I heard Tyson telling Clarisse. 'Not good for fish ponies.' 

I looked at the water, which was a light shade of brown. Several plastic bags floated by, black with grime. Grover looked outraged by all the litter in the water. 

Percy confirmed it. 'This is as far as they'll take us. Too many humans. Too much pollution. We'll have to swim to shore on our own.'

We thanked the hippocampi and slid off their backs. It was lucky Tyson was with us, as he managed to make towing a sixty-pound Fleece ashore look effortless. We struck out for the harbour and I guess Percy got the currents to help pull us in, because we made it there easily. We clambered onto a dock and Tyson draped the Fleece back over my shoulders even though I didn't need its healing power any more.

There was a newspaper box at the end of the dock. I picked up the top copy of the _Miami Herald_ as we passed and nearly dropped it into the sea when I saw the date: _June eighteenth_. 

'We've been away from camp ten days!' I groaned. No wonder Thalia's tree was barely clinging to life. Did it even have another day left?

Grover voiced what we were all thinking: 'We have to get the Fleece back _tonight_.'

'How are we supposed to do that?' Clarisse said, sounding more helpless than I'd ever heard her sound. 'We're hundreds of miles away. No money. No ride. This is just like the Oracle said.' She turned on Percy with a hateful glare. 'It's _your_ fault, Jackson! If you hadn't interfered—'

I looked at her incredulously. 'Percy's fault?! Clarisse, how can you say that?' If it hadn't been for Percy and me, she would have been a Cyclops's bride right now! If anything, _she_ was the one who had nearly wrecked us, taunting Polyphemus into sinking our ship. 'You are the biggest—'

Percy jumped between us. 'Stop it! Clarisse—what did the Oracle tell you exaclty?'

Clarisse sat on the pavement and put her head in her hands. I'd never seen her look so defeated. I remembered how spooked she'd looked when I'd seen her emerge from the Big House after she'd visited the Oracle. Suddenly, I felt cold despite the balmy Florida heat. 

Last year, Percy's prophecy had warned him that he would fail to save the thing that mattered most in the end—and it had been true, though in a way that we hadn't expected. Had Clarisse's mentioned anything like that? What if her prophecy had foretold something like her getting the Fleece but not in time to save Thalia's tree?

Then Clarisse looked up at us and related her prophecy with a sigh. 

' _You shall sail the iron ship with warriors of bone,  
You shall find what you seek and make it your own._'

Well, both of those things were clear—her skeleton crew, and our retrieval of the Fleece. Two checkboxes ticked. 

Clarisse continued:

' _But despair for your life entombed within stone,  
And fail without friends, to fly home alone._'

'Ouch,' Grover said. We were all silent. Even Tyson seemed to be considering the words seriously, frowning like they were giving him a headache. 

I turned the last line over in my head. Was it why Clarisse had set out alone? Had her friends forsaken her from the beginning, afraid that it would spell the doom of her companions? Yet we were all still here, together. She _wasn't_ without friends. 

But if the line was a cautionary one, like she would fail only if she had no friends with her …

'No—no, wait a minute, I've got it!' Percy said. He dug about in his pockets. 'Shoot. Does anybody have any cash?'

Anything I had was probably back on Circe's island with my old clothes. Grover shook his head and Clarisse produced only a soggy Confederate dollar, left over from her warship.

Tyson knit his eyebrows. 'Cash? Like … green paper?'

'Yeah.'

'Like … the kind in duffel bags?'

I had to think for a moment what he was talking about. Why would cash be in duffel bags? Then I realised he meant Hermes's duffel bags, long gone with all their contents in the Sea of Monsters.

Or maybe not. Like a magician, Tyson pulled out a sealed Ziploc bag full of notes, the same one Hermes had packed for us.

'Tyson!' Percy gaped at him. 'How did you—'

'Thought it was a feed bag for Rainbow. Found it floating in sea, but only paper inside. Sorry.'

'Sorry? Tyson, you're amazing!' I said, although I still didn't know what Percy wanted the cash for.

Tyson blushed. Percy grabbed the cash and counted it quickly. He ran to a nearby taxi. 'Clarisse! Come on. You're going to the airport.' Then he said something even more shocking. 'Annabeth, give her the Fleece.'

Clarisse and I stared at each other in bemusement. I'd cottoned on to what Percy meant to do, but I couldn't quite believe that he would send _Clarisse_ to deliver the Fleece. Maybe he couldn't fly as the son of Poseidon, but there was still Grover and me …

Percy made an impatient noise when we didn't move, and came back over. He took the Fleece off me and passed it to Clarisse, along with the wad of cash he'd counted out. 

'You—you'd let me—' Clarisse stammered.

'It's your quest. We only have enough money for one flight. Besides, I can't travel by air. Zeus would blast me into a million pieces. That's what the prophecy meant: you'd fail without friends, meaning you'd need our help, but you'd have to fly home alone. You have to get the Fleece back safely.'

I was sceptical about this. Clarisse had done so many idiotic things this whole quest, sending her off alone, in charge of the Fleece, felt like it could be a recipe for disaster. But her face brightened when she realised Percy was sincere, and took on a determined look. 

'You can count on me,' she said as she got into the taxi. 'I won't fail.' And I thought she really meant it.

'Not failing would be good,' Percy said.

'Percy,' I said as the cab disappeared around the corner. 'That was so …' I wasn't sure if I ought to feel miffed that he hadn't sent me (though I would have been torn between staying with the Fleece and leaving him) or appreciative of how he'd chosen to support Clarisse, with whom he'd established a hostile rivalry from his very first day at camp.

'Generous?' Grover supplied.

He was right, though there was a better word for it that I hadn't pinpointed yet. I elected not to share this, though. 'Insane,' I decided. 'You're betting the lives of everybody at camp that Clarisse will get the Fleece safely back by tonight?' 

Percy shrugged. 'It's her quest. She deserves a chance.'

'Percy is nice,' Tyson said.

'Percy is _too_ nice,' I said, remembering how he'd let Polyphemus go as well, to disastrous consequences. But it wasn't really about niceness or generosity. It was the way he gave people a chance to prove themselves—like Tyson, and now Clarisse. The word that had been eluding me came to mind. _Mature_. Percy was showing a surprisingly level of maturity, looking past his rivalry with Clarisse to try and do the fair thing. 

What was it that Beckendorf had said? _Percy's a pretty good judge of character._

I felt humbled. I'd always thought I had a good grasp on people. But I also expected them to disappoint me, and I rarely gave second chances. I'd been proven wrong too many times. Then again, last year, when I'd given living with my dad another shot—on Percy's advice, too—that had worked out better than I'd ever imagined before. 

I wasn't going to admit it now, but there was a lot I could probably learn from Percy. He hid it well with his dorky behaviour most of the time, but he really was a great guy. 

Unfortunately, at this moment he was also an unobservant guy—and so were the rest of us. I sensed the shadow creeping up behind me too late. An enormous beefy hand grabbed me by the shirt collar and lifted me right off the ground. I screamed and kicked, but only succeeded in scuffing Grover, who had been snatched up in the monster's other hand. 

Luke appeared in front of us, his double-edged sword at Percy's throat. 

'Hey, cuz,' he said casually. 'Welcome back to the States.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone's interested, I was totally imagining [49erFXs sailing in Biscayne Bay](http://media.gettyimages.com/photos/jena-mai-hansen-and-katja-salskoviversen-of-denmark-race-in-the-the-picture-id507599868). What can I say, I love those boats!


	23. Chiron's Relatives Stampede A Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiron and the Party Ponies ride to the rescue, and Annabeth and company take the Centaur Express back to Long Island.

We were back on the _Princess Andromeda_. Luke's hideous henchmen, the bear twins, hauled us on board and dropped us on the swimming pool deck in front of an army of monsters and demigods. I felt sick, both from the array of mixed forces Luke had assembled before us and my own stupidity. How could I have forgotten that Luke was after the Fleece, too?

It was lucky that we no longer had it. Percy's decision to send Clarisse off was turning out to be a fantastic idea after all. Luke had no idea we'd joined forces with Clarisse. Now the Fleece was nowhere he would expect.

He paced back and forth in front of us, finally stopping at Percy. 'The Fleece—where is it?' He levelled his sword menacingly, first at Percy, then at Grover, who protested when it pierced his jeans.

Luke smiled, but it was completely devoid of warmth. 'Sorry, old friend. Just give me the Fleece and I'll leave you to return to your, ah, little nature quest.' His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed his agitation, at least to me.

Grover bleated indignantly. 'Some old friend!'

Luke raised an eyebrow and turned to Percy. 'Maybe you didn't hear me. Where—is—the—Fleece?' He repeated the question with exaggerated slowness, each word as cold as ice.

'Not here,' Percy said, lifting his chin defiantly. 'We sent it on ahead of us. You messed up.'

I would have elbowed him or stomped on his foot to get him to shut up if fifty pairs of monster and demigod eyes hadn't been staring at us. Anyway, it was too late. Luke was quick to realise the truth. 

I sighed. First Clarisse, now Percy—why did they have to be so _dense_ at crucial moments, giving away our strategies?

'Clarisse?' Luke spluttered. 'You trusted … you gave …' And then he went ballistic. He screamed out orders and threats, paced the deck, and cursed so fervently that it almost sounded like a prayer. His eyes were completely wild. He seemed frantic to get to Miami Airport, to chase down Clarisse and obtain the Fleece.

He looked like I'd seen him in my dream, running through the dark tunnels in a panic.

I'd seen him lose his temper before, most recently when Percy had tried to talk to him about Hermes. But he was infinitely more crazed now. I'd never seen him look _this_ desperate … except—except on that long-ago night on Half-Blood Hill, when he'd carried me away from Thalia.

Why would losing the Fleece induce this level of desperation in him? What did he want it for? I suspected his plan was to revive Kronos, but this reaction … it was so over the top, so personal, I felt true fear for him. Did Kronos really engender such deep loyalty from Luke?

_You showed me that Kronos is not the way, you were able to build the world better_. The Sirens' vision played in my head. This _was_ still my old friend Luke, who cared deeply about _something_ , only Kronos had twisted his emotions to serve the wrong cause. 

Percy called out to Luke, 'You've been toying with us all along. You wanted us to bring you the Fleece and save you the trouble of getting it.'

Luke whirled around to face him. He looked angry enough to slash through Percy there and then with his sword. 'Of course, you idiot!' he growled. 'And you've messed everything up!'

'Traitor!' Percy yelled. He pulled a golden coin from his pocket and flung it at Luke in an uncharacteristic display of temper. 

I narrowed my eyes. Angry at he might be at Luke, it wasn't like him to throw things about in rage. 

'You tricked all of us!' Percy continued loudly. 'Even _Dionysus_ at _Camp Half-Blood_!' He enunciated the last words carefully, which gave me a clue as to what he was really doing.

The Iris message that started to form in the fountain of pool water behind Luke was an even bigger hint. Percy drew his sword as though he intended to start fighting, effectively capturing Luke's attention, along with that of half the onlookers. I quickly backed him up. The giant Oreius still had a threatening hand on my collar, so I twisted like I meant to free myself. Oreius tightened his grip and I made a big show of struggling even harder as Percy goaded Luke into revealing his role in poisoning Thalia's tree. He was good, too—he even managed to work it round to Chiron's innocence. I carefully avoided looking at the fountain, although I knew Mr D's face would be there, watching the entire spectacle.

Oreius grew tired of my squirming and he smacked my head into Grover's. It was just a warning bump—at least I thought it was—but it still made me see stars.

'You don't understand the half of it,' Luke said, and he sounded more enraged than ever. 'I was going to let you take the Fleece … once I was done with it.'

I wondered if the knock to my head had addled my brain. Luke sounded so adamant, so sincere—yet he subsequently agreed that he meant to use the Fleece to help Kronos's regeneration. 

Scenes I had seen in my dreams flashed quickly through my head. The first one at the start of the whole business—Luke (I knew it had been him, now) telling the tree, _trust me_. Luke's anxious conversation about running out of time. His talk about a gamble. His bargain with Kronos to save my life. Had that been the deal all along? If he acquired the Fleece for Kronos, the Titan lord would let him heal Thalia's tree and spare me? The idea gave me some hope that under the polished mask of Kronos's servant, vestiges of my oldest friend still remained.

But _Luke_ had poisoned Thalia's tree. It wouldn't have needed saving if he hadn't done it in the first place. 

It didn't make sense. There was still something I was missing.

Percy concluded his trick, finally drawing everyone's attention to Mr D's face in the fountain. And not just Mr D. We'd caught him at dinner time, so the entire mess hall, including Tantalus and all the remaining campers were listening to Luke's confession with open mouths. I caught sight of Connor Stoll, who was holding his fork halfway to his mouth. A piece of brisket fell from it back onto his plate.

'Mr D, you heard him—you all heard Luke,' Percy said. 'The poisoning of the tree wasn't Chiron's fault!'

'I suppose not,' Mr D said.

If I hadn't been so conflicted about Luke, I probably would have cheered along with the other campers in the Iris message, thrilled with Percy's success. He'd cleared Chiron's name. Tantalus was going to be fired. 

I promised myself I'd tell him how brilliant he was later. Right now, we still had to get out of this mess. And though things were looking up for Chiron and the camp, they were definitely looking bad for us.

Luke slashed through the Iris message and turned on Percy. 'Kronos was right, Percy,' he snarled. 'You're an unreliable weapon. You need to be replaced.'

Although there were more than enough fighters on deck to handle the four of us, Luke summoned a dozen more, as if to show that he could. A ring of masked demigods encircled us, their spears gleaming as their brass tips aimed at our hearts. I couldn't tell who they were beneath their masks, though it was highly likely that I knew some of them.

'You'll never leave this boat alive,' Luke said with a cold smile.

Percy didn't even glance at Luke's henchmen. He issued a challenge directly to Luke: 'One on one—what are you afraid of?'

The warriors all turned to Luke. Percy had presented him with a dilemma—the wisest thing to do would be to ignore Percy and leave, but that would also give his men the impression that he feared taking Percy on himself. 

At the same time, Agrius returned to the deck with a black Pegasus that seemed about as thrilled as we were to be on board the ship. 

'I told you last summer, Percy. You can't bait me into a fight.' In spite of these words, Luke ignored Agrius and his ride to the airport, keeping his eyes fixed on Percy.

'And you keep avoiding one. Scared your warriors will see you get whipped?'

Percy's comment was designed to sting. Luke was the best sword-fighter Camp Half-Blood had seen in three hundred years. He had a lot to lose backing down from a challenge … and admittedly little by actually fighting Percy. I knew Percy was good—I'd seen him battle Ares last summer—but Luke had trained Percy himself. 

Percy must have known all this, too, but still he stood calmly staring Luke down. He had to know that all he could do was buy time. I mentally calculated how long it would take for Clarisse to get on a flight and out of Luke's grasp. She had to be at the airport by now. 

Luke raised his sword—a blade with a dual edge of bronze and steel. I'd seen him training with it last summer before he'd left camp. He'd said it was new. I wondered morbidly if it had been his prize for pledging his service to Kronos. It made me think again, what exactly had Kronos promised Luke in return for his loyalty?

'I'll kill you quickly,' Luke said to Percy. He whistled sharply and one of the demigods threw him a shield. My heart clenched miserably. Bad enough to have two boys I cared about facing off in combat. The sight of Percy on top of that, looking so pitifully defenceless against a fully-armed Luke, who had over sixty men and monsters as back-up …

'Luke, at least give him a shield,' I pleaded.

Luke looked at me for the first time since he'd ambushed us. We locked eyes for a second, but I couldn't read his expression. Finally, he said, 'Sorry, Annabeth. You bring your own equipment to this party.'

With that, he lunged forward. I bit back a scream as his blade narrowly missed Percy's heart. Before this, I'd only heard about Luke's previous attack on Percy second-hand, from Percy himself. Actually seeing Luke lunge and strike mercilessly at Percy brought me to tears. 

I'd watched Luke fight many times at camp and thought his craft to be a thing of beauty, but there was nothing beautiful about this duel. This man, who fought with cold, calculated murder in his eyes, was not my old friend. It couldn't be. It _had_ to be Kronos through and through.

I wanted to close my eyes. I couldn't bear to watch the two of them duel. But the only thing worse than watching Luke kill Percy would be knowing Percy had died at Luke's hands and I'd been too cowardly to look.

Percy's blood splattered the pool deck. He was cut over and over again, and while he tried to use the water in the pool to his advantage, Luke was too good. He was wearing Percy down.

Finally, Percy rolled across the deck and lay still, just ten feet away from me. I tried to run to him but Oreius held me fast. He gave my head another warning knock against Grover's.

Luke smiled, a cold, malicious smile that made me shiver. 'One thing I want you to watch before you die, Percy.' He looked at Oreius and I thought I saw a shadow pass through his eyes, breaking up that cruel look in them for a split second. He jerked his head to the right almost imperceptibly. Oreius shifted, loosening his hold on me slightly. 

'You can eat your dinner now, Oreius,' Luke said. 'Bon appetite.'

Oreius laughed and raised Grover to his mouth. Grover bleated in terror.

Suddenly, the grip on my neck slackened off. I twisted free of Oreius and found that the bear twin had been struck by an arrow straight in the mouth. Grover collapsed to the deck and crawled away quickly as Oreius exploded into monster dust. Luke paused, his attention diverted from Percy, who was trying to get back on his feet. I drew my knife just as the deck exploded into a whirlwind of colour.

The cavalry had arrived, in the form of an assortment of whooping centaurs, who were charging out of every exit. The whole ship seemed to reverberate with the beat of their hooves against the deck and the echo of their cries and hoots. Their bodies were a dizzying explosion of colour, not just from their skins and hides but the gaudy t-shirts they sported, with neon letters announcing that the PARTY PONIES had arrived. They galloped in too fast for me to be certain, but I thought some of them had actually painted the words straight onto their chests.

'Oh yeah, baby!' screamed the Party Ponies as they trashed the deck like they were having some insane revelry that was half battle and half blowout bash.

They had the most unconventional weapons I had ever seen, from paintball guns to baseball bats, but they were certainly effective. Bright paint bullets slammed into monsters' hides, sending them ducking for cover from the multi-coloured onslaught. Demigod warriors dropped like stones when bats slammed them in the head. Some of the Party Ponies had bows, but their arrows looked like they'd come from a joke shop, with tips ranging from suction cups to boxing gloves. One of the latter flew at Luke and knocked him straight into the swimming pool with a big splash.

A very familiar, very welcome face came galloping through the crowd of his relatives.

'What ho, Annabeth!' Chiron said. He grabbed Grover and me by our waists and tossed us onto his back. He called out to the other centaurs, 'Withdraw, brethren!' 

'We have to get Percy!' I said, scanning the deck. I'd lost sight of him in the mêlée. 'Before Luke does!' I could see Luke, dripping wet from his enforced swim, trying to rally his troops.

'You won't get away with this horse man!'

'And yet, we are,' Chiron said as he turned away and ran for the guard rail. 'Don't worry, Annabeth. Larry has him.' He pointed to a palomino centaur, who was sagging a little under the combined weight of Percy and Tyson. And then he picked up speed and vaulted straight off the _Princess Andromeda_ , landing the ten-storey jump with no more than a faint thud—less turbulence than an airplane landing. The other centaurs followed like a rainbow arching from the ship. Miami went by in a blue of buildings, palm trees, and centaur cat-calls. If I'd ever wondered how Chiron always seemed to travel quickly to places when he left camp, I was no longer in doubt. It was like riding a whirlwind through the marshes of Florida.

Chiron barely seemed winded by the exertion. As we ran, he spoke with only the slightest pant in his voice, like he was only taking a leisurely jog. 

'I'm proud of you, my child. Now tell me, what happened in the Sea of Monsters?'

I glowed at his praise. While we sprinted north, I related everything that had happened since we'd last spoken, from our entrance into the Sea of Monsters to our departure from Polyphemus's island. 'Percy was amazing,' I concluded. 'If it wasn't for him—'

'Yes,' Chiron said. For some reason, his eyes were crinkled in amusement. 'He is becoming quite the hero, isn't he? It is a good sign for the prophecy.'

The prophecy! I bit my lip. 'Um … Chiron, I told Percy …'

Chiron's eyes darkened. 'I take it he asked you about the prophecy?'

'I'm sorry. I think Luke said something about it to him, and he wanted to know, and …'

'And you thought it would do no harm?'

'Well, Percy isn't going to turn against the gods. Knowing about the prophecy—I mean, it's scary, but maybe it will help him figure out how to fight Kronos.'

Chiron slowed to a trot. We fell quickly to the back of the centaur pack. 'It is not just the prophecy itself that I hoped to protect him from. Annabeth, have you considered that Percy's knowledge of the prophecy might affect how Kronos views _him_?'

'What do you mean?'

'The Titan lord seeks to manipulate heroes—while a vague prophecy hung over Percy's head, he would feel like he could still use it to turn Percy's loyalties. Yet if Percy knows the prophecy and still chooses to stand with Olympus … well, Kronos loses any leverage he might have. The risk of allowing Percy to live becomes too great. And given the scene I interrupted on the _Princess Andromeda_ , it does seem like Kronos has indeed written Percy off as a possible ally.'

I bit my lip. 'I didn't think of that.'

'It is all right, child. I had hoped … but no matter. I shall think on how we can best advise him, now that he knows.'

He increased his speed again and we didn't slow down until we were far from the city, in what looked like a trailer park next to a lake. Only instead of caravans and mobile homes, there were enormous horse trailers that had electronics set up side by side with hay beds. A messily-painted sign on one of them said _PARTY PONIES: SOUTH FLORIDA CHAPTER_.

Larry the palomino centaur deposited Percy and Tyson on a picnic blanket by the lake and cracked his back.

'Dude,' he told Tyson, 'you could stand to lose a few, you know what I'm saying?'

Another centaur, who for some reason sported glasses with fake eyes that bugged out, trotted by and high-fived Larry. 'That was awesome! Head slam!'

Larry didn't take him up on it, but another centaur did. They head-butted with so much force, one of Fake-Glasses's googly eyes fell off and dangled on a spring. The two of them went staggering off towards a campfire in the centre of the trailer park. 

'I really wish my cousins wouldn't slam their heads together,' Chiron said mildly, shaking his head as he helped Grover and me off his back. 'They don't have the brain cells to spare.'

Percy walked over. 'Chiron, you saved us.'

'Well now, I couldn't very well let you die, especially since you've cleared my name,' Chiron said. 

A question I hadn't thought to ask before suddenly occurred to me. 'But how did you know where we were?'

Chiron winked at me. 'Advance planning, my dear. I figured you would wash up near Miami if you made it out of the Sea of Monsters alive. Almost everything strange washes up near Miami.'

'Gee, thanks,' Grover said. 

'No, no, I didn't mean … Oh, never mind. I _am_ glad to see you, my young satyr. The point is, I was able to eavesdrop on Percy's Iris-message and trace the signal.' He explained how he'd gotten Iris to track any important messages, and then convinced his cousins to ride in to save the day once he'd pinpointed our location. I wondered if Chiron had presented the idea to them as crashing a party. 

'So what now? We just let Luke sail away?' Percy traced a gash in his pant leg that Luke's sword had sliced. The cloth around it was dark with blood. 'He's got Kronos aboard that ship. Or parts of him, anyway.'

'I'm afraid, Percy, that today has been something of a draw,' Chiron said. He knelt so that he was level with Percy and pulled bandages out of a pouch on his belt. 'We didn't have the strength of numbers to take that ship. Luke was not organised enough to pursue us. Nobody won.'

'But we got the Fleece!' I reminded them. 'Clarisse is on her way back to camp with it right now.' That had been the whole point of the quest—to get the Fleece and make it back alive. Surely that counted for something?

'You are all true heroes,' Chiron allowed. 'And as soon as we get Percy fixed up, you must return to Half-Blood Hill. The centaurs shall carry you.'

'You're coming, too?' Percy asked.

'Oh yes, Percy. I'll be relieved to get home. My brethren here simply do not appreciate Dean Martin's music.' Percy and I exchanged a look. I hoped Chiron never found out how we'd used his records to scare away the Stymphalian birds. 'Besides, I must have some words with Mr D. There's the rest of the summer to plan. So much training to do.' He fixed Percy with a stern look. 'And I want to see … I'm curious about the Fleece.'

We were silent as we let this sink in. I hoped Clarisse had indeed gotten safely on her plane, out of reach of Luke. Surely we'd delayed him enough.

A bright blue missile shot right between us and smashed into Larry, who went toppling into the lake. Cheers rang out from around the campfire. A group of centaurs were patting Tyson on the back as he wielded a paintball gun.

Chiron gave me a significant look. 'Annabeth, perhaps you and Grover would go supervise Tyson and my cousins before they, ah, teach each other too many bad habits?'

He didn't look at Percy, but he didn't have to. I knew that he needed to discuss the prophecy with him.

I linked my arm through Grover's. 'Come on, goat boy.'

'But I don't like paintball!' Grover protested, with a nervous glance at Tyson.

'Yes, you do.' I hauled him up and dragged him away with me.

'Joining the game, doll?' said a chestnut-skinned centaur.

Grover and I exchanged looks. I shrugged. 'Sure. What do we do?'

'You ever play capture the flag?'

I grinned. 'You bet.'

'Annabeth!' Tyson pulled away from his newfound centaur friends and came over to me. 'You are on my team.'

'We get the goat-boy, then!' Larry said.

Capture the flag with the centaurs was a lot less organised than the game at camp. As far as I could tell, it was more of a free-for-all where the teams shot at each other across the entire park while darting around trying to pick up as many assorted 'flags' (really smiley-face balloons tied to sticks shoved in the mud) as they could while being pelted with paintball bullets. There weren't enough guns to go around, so Grover and I ended up just running around dodging the exploding sprays of paint. I wasn't sure whose team won in the end, but we all wound up looking like our shirts had been tie-dyed.

Percy and Chiron joined us for dinner around the campfire. Chiron tried to enlist a few centaurs to carry us to Long Island and ended up with the entire chapter volunteering once he mentioned Mr D. 

'That guy gets up to some wild stuff,' said the centaur carrying me. He introduced himself as Rick. 'I can't wait to party. Man, the last time I was there—'

I touched my necklace with the six camp beads, one for every summer. One of them was painted with a centaur in a prom dress. 'I've met you before!' I realised. 'You guys crashed Camp Half-Blood and made us throw a prom.' The Aphrodite cabin had been all over the idea. It was the only time I'd ever seen them leading a camp project. 

Rick laughed heartily. 'Yeah, oh my gods, that was awesome, wasn't it? I was with the Jersey Chapter then—before we disbanded, of course.'

The run north was the fastest I'd ever travelled over land. A thousand miles and we managed to cover it in less than three hours. I think it was just after midnight when we arrived at the foot of Half-Blood Hill. A cab was driving away when we approached. As we got closer, I could see a figure swathed in shining gold halfway up the hill. Clarisse had barely beaten us back.

Border patrol spotted her right away. Someone blew conch horn and campers flooded out. The looks on their faces when from _no, not again_ to _thank the gods_ in seconds when they realised what Clarisse was carrying. 

We all crowded around Thalia's tree. It was barely hanging in there, with the last withering leaves just about ready to fall and the trunk black and rotting around the puncture wound and the crack down its middle. But the moment Clarisse laid the Golden Fleece on its lowest bough, I could feel the magic ripple across not just the tree, but the entire camp. Everything seemed to be bathed in a rich, silvery glow, like we had been doused in a healing light. A soft breeze stirred up the air, filling it with a sweet, fresh scent I recognised from Polyphemus's island. More campers came hobbling up the hill to join us—many on crutches or supporting injured comrades—and they watched in awe as the magic of the Fleece flowed into Thalia's tree, slowly returning it to full health. The blackness in the trunk seeped away, replaced by strong, healthy bark. The last sickly leaf fell to the earth, but new ones grew in its place, filling the branches with dense green pine needles once more. 

By the time the transformation was complete, every camper who was still mobile had gathered in a ring on Half-Blood Hill to witness the miracle. My hand found Percy's as we stood next to Chiron, Grover, and Tyson on the far side of the tree, closing the united circle of campers around Clarisse and the tree. Although we couldn't see the barrier, I could feel it settling over the valley like a light shawl.

A sense of peace fell over me. Our quest was complete. The camp was safe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on Luke—I do think he had multiple motivations to serve Kronos, which Percy as the PoV character doesn't see, particularly in the earlier books. The way Percy's first-person narrative presents Luke in _LT_ and _SoM_ is actually staggeringly different from descriptions in the later half of the series, which initially seemed like inconsistent characterisation of Luke, but on subsequent analysis, I felt it showcased Percy's character growth as he begins to see Luke differently—no longer a two-dimensional villain but a flawed human being. Especially when Luke himself realises he's got in over his head and what he thought was the right path turned out to be the worst decision of his life. Anyway, this isn't a Luke fic, but I still wanted to hint at the possible motivations that drove him. People are complicated and trying to portray that in characters is one of my favourite parts of writing fiction.


	24. A Long-Lost Friend Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as Annabeth settles back into the camp routine, something incredible happens to shake up her summer again.

The cheer started out among the campers and gave way to a steady chant: 'Clarisse! Clarisse!' She was swamped by a dozen of her friends, who hefted her onto their shoulders and bore her away down the hill towards the amphitheatre. Tyson tried to start a cheer for Percy as well, but Percy trod heavily on his foot and shook his head. I understood what he was trying to say. This had been Clarisse's quest and he didn't want to steal her glory.

I guess that kind of settled it—whatever Percy's fatal flaw was, pride wasn't it.

We trailed the victory procession down the hill. At the Big House, more campers were emerging from the infirmary. The power of the Fleece seemed to have invigorated even the more severely wounded.

Nobody seemed to care that it was the middle of the night; we trooped over to the amphitheatre and started a magical campfire that immediately leapt ten feet into the air, sensing an elated mood that was higher than it had been all summer. The cleaning harpies watched resentfully from the bleachers. I guessed the edict on curfew-breakers being eaten had been revoked at some point. 

Ares cabin produced a shroud for Clarisse—blood-red with a spear-wielding boar splashed across it in black paint—and proceeded to burn it with gusto. A few of Demeter's children spun a laurel wreath from the earth and placed it on Clarisse's head. 

For once, Clarisse looked perfectly happy. There wasn't a trace of irritation on her face. She glanced at our little group once and said something I couldn't hear to Sherman Yang. Sherman whispered something in her ear and Clarisse looked away from us quickly.

Chiron disappeared into the Big House and emerged with Mr D, who wore an expression of exaggerated boredom. 

'I suppose I'll allow this after-hours celebration to honour our camper Cora Lawrence for returning successful from her quest,' he said. 

'And saving the camp!' Mark Harrison yelled.

'Yes, yes, there is that. And now that we have our activities director Chiron back again,' he continued glibly, as if he hadn't been the one to fire Chiron in the first place, 'I'll let him handle the announcements.'

He gazed around the campfire. His eyes landed on Percy, Tyson, and me, and narrowed slightly, but before he could say anything else, he was accosted by a horde of excited Party Ponies. Mr D led the whole herd off towards the woods. I have no idea whether they did get their wild party with him after all, but we didn't see any of them for the rest of the celebration. 

Percy and Tyson went over to the Hermes section, where Connor and Travis Stoll were handing out marshmallows. My half-brother Malcolm came over to me and, a little too casually, offered me a stick full of them. I looked around the amphitheatre. If the whole camp had indeed turned out, our numbers were definitely reduced. I remembered what I'd seen in my dreams, of the campers who'd been killed and the ones who'd left. Anita, my half-sister, was conspicuously absent.

'I guess the campers who left can come back now that it's safe,' I said hopefully.

'Mr D expelled everyone who left without permission,' Malcolm said. 'I don't think he can just go back on that.'

'But—Percy and I left …'

Malcolm carefully avoided meeting my eyes. 'Did you? I don't know anything about that.'

I dropped the subject. There would be no shrouds or wreaths for us, but I guess that was okay. Everyone at camp knew we'd helped and that was why they were trying to hard to pretend like we'd been at camp the entire time. It probably wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Mr D, but it would give him a way to allow our return without losing face. It was in our best interests to play along.

Chiron stepped up to thunderous applause and an explosion of height from the campfire flames. He had to pound his hoof several times against the stones before we quietened down, but he seemed pleased at the roaring welcome.

'Thank you,' he said. 'It is good to be back. I must commend you all for your bravery in defending the camp in my absence. I especially thank Clarisse and Annabeth for keeping the border patrols going, and Beckendorf for taking over its organisation while Clarisse embarked on her quest.' He neatly avoided mentioning my name or Percy's in conjunction with the quest. 'I am happy to announce, however, that thanks to the Golden Fleece, our magic barriers have reactivated and a patrol is no longer necessary.'

The cheer that went up was deafening. The campfire cycled through array of intense colours.

'We will need to maintain a twenty-four hour guard on the Fleece, however. Argus should return shortly, and I will put an ad in _Olympus Weekly_ immediately for a permanent guardian as well. Until then, I've assigned Lee Fletcher to take the first watch, and will the senior counsellors please see me tomorrow morning to get the guard schedule?

'And with that … well, I'm afraid announcements about specific camp activities will have to wait until I've had a chance to settle in. But I will do my best to return things to our regular programming as soon as possible.'

Just as Chiron promised, we settled quickly back into our ordinary activites. Unlike at the start of summer, when our return to camp had been a brutal shock to the system, it was now like coming home. Things weren't all the same, of course. The camp had suffered plenty of damage and losses in our absence. Nonetheless, some good did come out of that. I was asked to redesign a new arts and crafts cabin since the _Draco Aionius_ had razed the original to the ground, scorching most of the land around it in the process. 

After a morning's sword-training with Percy (who seemed determined to brush up his skills after his showdown with Luke), I hurried back to my cabin to bury myself in our library of architecture books. I couldn't help thinking wistfully about Circe's library and the wealth of knowledge she had there. I was glad of course to have escaped her island, but I wished I could at least have perused her shelves at least once.

Argust turned up at lunchtime that day, bearing a week's worth of mail that had gone astray. I had a letter from my dad, which was full of excited discussion of planes and history and Sopwith Camels (as far as I could tell, that was a biplane and not a desert animal). I started to write back about my latest adventure. In the middle of this, someone plopped down onto the bench next to me and plucked an apple from my half-finished lunch plate. A heavier thump came down on my other side. 

I looked up to find Percy and Tyson grinning at me.

'Come on, Annabeth,' Percy said. 'Don't we have a race strategy to plan?'

I quickly shoved my dad's letter between the pages of my architecture design book, marking my spot. I'd almost forgotten about the upcoming chariot race. Chiron had announced at breakfast that while he needed more time to properly organise the first capture the flag of the summer, we might as well finish off Tantalus's last scheduled race this week—prizes included.

This time, Percy and I were going to team up, the way we'd meant to the first time. And unlike before, I was happy to have Tyson working with us now.

'I am no good on chariot,' Tyson said as we walked to the forges.

'That's okay,' I told him. 'Percy and I can race. You just build us the best chariot ever.'

Tyson beamed. 'Yes. I can build it. Best chariot for Annabeth and Percy.'

He was as good as his word. The remains of our old chariots were piled up as heaps of scrap metal in the forges. Tyson managed to pull out everything he needed and assemble them as quickly as if they were Lego blocks. I gave him the aerodynamic designs I'd done up previously and not only did he reproduce my sleek, streamlined carriage, he also reinforced it to better withstand attacks and fixed up its suspension, making it as smooth as riding a centaur. He fitted a weaponry system worthy of Hephaestus, which was going to make my job as defender a breeze: two javelins with multiple attack modes that could be activated with the touch of a button. They could either explode into razor wire, punch a driver out of their chariot, or function as a multi-purpose hook. I wondered if he'd gotten inspiration from the Party Ponies and their unconventional arrows.

I had to appreciate his handiwork, too. The chariot gleamed as beautifully as an Aphrodite-designed vehicle. 

'It's amazing, Tyson,' I said when he presented us with the finished product. Tyson grinned so widely, I thought his face might split apart.

After all that, there was no way we were going to throw the race. Our chariot stood up beautifully against an assault from Michael Yew—the Apollo camper Clarisse seemed to hold a personal vendetta against—and Tyson's javelins worked like a charm in defending us. We sailed through the finish line clear in the lead, to thunderous applause and celebration from my cabin. We'd just won them the prize of no chores for a whole month. 

As they clapped and stomped and shouted our names, I realised it was more than just for winning the race. Other campers took up the chant, too. It was as though they were taking the chance to surreptitiously congratulate and thank us for our role in bringing back the Fleece as well. Even Clarisse joined in grudgingly.

Tyson stood a little off to the side, clapping and yelling along with everyone else. He didn't seem bothered to be left out of the revelry, but I couldn't let it slide. I owed him way too much and I had lots to make up for. 

'Hold up!' I said, raising my hands. 'Listen! It wasn't just us!' I pushed through the crowd and reached for Tyson's hand. He looked bewildered when I pulled him into the centre to join me and Percy. 'We couldn't have done it without somebody else!' I told our friends. 'We couldn't have won this race or got the Fleece or saved Grover or anything!' I looked at Tyson. His big calf-brown eye was welling up with happy tears. 'We owe our lives to Tyson,' I finished. 'Percy's—'

'Brother!' Percy shouted, slinging an arm around Tyson's shoulder. 'Tyson, my baby brother!'

Tyson's face went the colour of beetroot as our friends added his name to the chant: 'Annabeth! Percy! Tyson!'

Percy looked at me with shining eyes. The emotion in them was so intense, my heart just about went cartwheeling across the race track. Without thinking twice about it, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek amidst thunderous roars of approval. Someone—it sounded like one of the Stoll brothers, but I wasn't sure—cat-called. I heard a wolf-whistle among the crowd. If I hadn't been running on pure adrenaline from the thrill of our win and the sheer energy of the crowd, I might have felt embarrassed. Percy stared at me with a dazed but elated sort of grin on his face that made the rest of the world almost seem to melt away. 

As my brothers and sisters hoisted all three of us over to the winner's circle, my heart was so full, I felt like it could burst.

OoOoO

Somehow I managed to come down from my winner's high. I went back to work on my plans for rebuilding the arts and crafts cabin that afternoon. I had some pretty good ideas drawn up: my main diagram had an open plan design, which felt more conducive for creative projects. In one corner, I intended to have a loom with a bust of Athena overlooking it, since she was the patron goddess of useful crafts. I thought it would be nice to add a tribute to Hephaestus, too, to acknowledge his skill at creating things. The work tables would rise out of the earth like tree stumps, forged in solid metal for strength and durability but lacquered to resemble actual wood. The inspiration had come from the natural world, which I thought the nymphs who often ran activities there would like. It would be tricky to make, but I figured Tyson would get a kick out of working on it with Beckendorf and the Hephaestus kids. 

Beckendorf himself came by the burnt site when I was taking measurements. He agreed that it would be a challenging but fun project.

'Hell of a chariot you guys had this morning,' he added. 'Even I can't beat Cyclops workmanship.'

That reminded me of something. 'We passed the forges of Hephaestus, you know,' I told him. 'In the Sea of Monsters.' I described the glowing volcanoes that we'd skirted around. 

'I would've liked to see that,' Beckendorf said wistfully.

Chiron came by, a bow slung over his shoulder and his quiver of arrows across his back. I showed him my plans and he nodded with satisfaction. 

'You're going to make a fine architect, Annabeth,' he said approvingly. 'But I came over to tell you—Tyson has been called to Poseidon's underwater forges. We've just given permission for his departure.'

I guess by now I shouldn't have been surprised at how disappointed this news made me feel. 'When?' I asked.

'Now.'

' _What_?'

'He's saying goodbye to Percy on the beach as we speak.'

I shoved my design sheets into my bag and raced for the sand dunes. It was a bit like déjà-vu, replaying the way I'd run out to find Percy the night of our departure for the quest. Only this time it was Grover I ran into along the way, practising on his reed pipes. I pulled him along with me. 

Unfortunately, we got there too late. Just as before, Percy was sitting alone on the sand, staring out at the sea with a dejected expression on his face.

I guided him back to the dining pavilion for dinner. Since he was the only cabin three resident again, he had to eat by himself. He looked so much lonelier than he had in the same circumstance last year. I guess I'd gotten used to seeing him joke around with Tyson at meal times. I knew Percy probably felt Tyson's absence even more keenly because he pushed his pizza around his plate, barely eating any of it.

I found that I wasn't all that hungry either. I was going to miss the big guy, too. 

After dinner, I went up to Percy and brought him over to the canoe lake, where Grover and I tried to take his mind off Tyson's departure by talking about other things. 

'I got a lot of ideas for rebuilding the arts and crafts cabin,' I said. 'I've been researching designs all week.'

'Annabeth, maybe this isn't the time …' Grover said.

'No,' Percy interrupted, 'tell me. I want to hear.'

'Well, I figured I'd make it more open-air, so we can work out-of-doors. And that gives us lots of free land. I thought at first we could put in a temple as well … I mean, it's a little wrong that the camp doesn't have one at all! I don't see why Mr D would object to using our funds for it, but Chiron said there's no way we'd be able to raise enough from the strawberry crop to pay for it.'

'So we'll just have to keep praying to our parents in private.' Percy's voice held just a hint of irony.

'So I thought about growing something instead. And you know what sort of architecture is really alive?'

'Er, I'm guessing you don't mean like one of those bronze bulls, right?'

'Of course now! Those are automatons. That's completely different. Well, I guess statues could kind of be both. But I was thinking like a hedge maze. They had loads of them in England, but the trend didn't really survive over time.'

'Hedges sound good,' Grover said. 'More plants.'

'The concept is really old, though. I got the idea from the Labyrinth.'

'Isn't that where the Minotaur came from?' Percy's face turned a little pale. 'Don't tell me it moved to America as well?'

'I don't know. I've heard that you _can_ find it, but I don't know where. And yes, the Minotaur used to be in the Labyrinth until Theseus killed it, but it's obviously no longer trapped inside now.'

'You bet it isn't,' Percy muttered. He'd been attacked by the Minotaur just last year. The memory was evidently still fresh.

'Anyway, that's not the point. The Labyrinth is one of the most miraculous architectural pieces in Greek history. Daedalus invented it, and he was like a genius—he was a son of Athena _and_ a descendent of Hephaestus, you know.'

'I'm not sure I want to,' Percy murmured. 

'They say Daedalus's Labyrinth was really alive—like it had its own life force. I thought it would be cool to try my hand at designing a maze, too. But with plants … it'd be alive in the literal sense.' _Living, breathing architecture_ , I thought. Like Professor Daly had said. 

'I think there was something like that in a Harry Potter movie,' Grover said thoughtfully. 'It was creepy, though.'

'Well, I wouldn't make it attack people! I'd get you satyrs to grow it, so it would be friendly, you know, like have the essence of nature spirits or something.'

I spun out my ideas as the sun set over the woods to the west, content despite Grover and Percy's occasional ribbing. At least Percy didn't seem quite so down any more. Presently, Lee Fletcher came to get me for guard duty. I said good night to Percy and Grover and headed up to Thalia's tree.

I'd done three guard shifts in the day so far, but this was my first night shift. Things looked different in the dark. A storm was brewing beyond the hill, with clouds obscuring the moon and stars, but the Fleece glowed like a guiding beacon. Lightning flashed in the distance, coming nearer as the hours passed. Shortly before dawn, the storm broke, throwing down torrents of rain that stopped right before the magic barriers. If I stepped beyond the tree, it came pouring down on me, but behind the boundary line, everything was calm. I stayed in the shelter of the pine, sitting at its base. Wind rustled through its leaves like whispers, as though the tree was talking to me.

'I'm glad you're back to normal,' I said, patting its roots. I found myself speaking to it as though it was Thalia herself, something I hadn't done for ages. 'I couldn't bear it when the poison was hurting you. Like—well, it was bad enough watching the first time.' I looked up through the pine needles, growing strong and thick all over the tree again. The branches seemed to spread even wider than before, like arms held out in defence. Like Thalia herself when she stood on the hill six years ago. I had the surreal thought that here I was watching over her, while she watched over us in turn. 'I still miss you,' I said softly.

Suddenly, the Fleece flashed like the lightning breaking around the hill. Thunder shook so violently that I felt the ground tremble beneath me. When it passed and my eyes recovered from the sudden burst of light, I noticed something stirring among the roots of the tree. I thought at first it was a rat, or maybe a mole, but then a pale hand appeared. I jumped to my feet in alarm. Someone was materialising at the base of the tree, almost like they were crawling out of its roots. 

I blinked and pinched myself under my armour, not entirely sure I wasn't hallucinating from having been up all night. A skinny arm, covered by a black sleeve, was still reaching out from between the thick, gnarled roots.

I couldn't tell yet what sort of creature it was—my mind leapt immediately to zombies, although I guess if it hadn't been the early hours of the morning, a more sensible conclusion would have been dryads—but I immediately blew the conch horn that we were meant to use if anything attacked. Chiron had been very specific about sounding the alert: better a false alarm than to risk losing the Fleece. We didn't know what Luke might have planned as an attempt to retrieve it. 

Grover was one of the first to come running, along with Malcolm, both in their pyjamas. In the time that they took to get up the hill, though, the figure had emerged completely from the tree. She was a young girl and she lay there unconscious, as though she had crawled up and collapsed right there.

I dropped to my knees next to her, but I found I couldn't move or speak or even pull my trembling hands away from my mouth. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I had to be dreaming.

'Who is that?' Malcolm asked. 

Grover's hand gripped my shoulder painfully—proof that I _was_ awake. This was real.

'It's her,' Grover gasped, confirming what I was seeing. 

It was Thalia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if I were following _SoM_ strictly, this would be the end. But I'm a fan of stories within a series still being self-contained, so I'm not going out on a cliffhanger here. Not to mention, where canon ends is where the fun begins! There's still more action to come, I promise!
> 
> I feel like I need a disclaimer about Annabeth's arts and crafts cabin designs—I am not an architect, nor have I ever studied the subject in even the minutest level, so I have no idea how accurately I'm portraying her passion or her ideas. I try to research and reference where I can, but in this case, I had to come up with it wholesale, so I do hope I haven't offended any architecture majors or anything with my descriptions!


	25. We Dig Up Old Weapons From The Attic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth helps Thalia settle into camp.

I barely noticed the tears that started to roll down my cheeks. 

_Thalia_. 

Malcolm and Grover ran off to get Chiron, but I stayed where I was, kneeling on the ground by her prone figure. She was almost exactly as I remembered her: skinny like Percy with black hair that stuck out in every direction, too. Even her clothes were the same—black t-shirt and jeans, with the thick leather jacket she'd once wrapped around me on a night when the temperature had gotten abnormally chilly for summer. Her jeans even had the slashes from when a feral warthog had clawed her leg.

Her face and skin were so pale, I was afraid it might be her corpse I was staring at. I had the sudden, panicked thought: what if by reviving the tree, we had inadvertently expelled Thalia's spirit and killed her for real? 

Then Thalia stirred ever so slightly and I thought instead of the nymph Leuke. I should have remembered her sooner—the dryad Odysseus had rescued from a poplar tree. Did it mean that Thalia was a dryad, then? She didn't look like she'd acquired the features of one, though. 

I became vaguely aware of a crowd gathering around me, whispering and pointing, but I didn't move until the sight of Chiron approaching with Percy on his back jerked me to action. I ran to him. If anyone could make sense of this, it would be Chiron. 

'It … she …' I tried to explain what had happened, but words failed me. 'She … just suddenly _there_ …'

Chiron touched my shoulder gently. Percy swung off his back and raced over to Thalia, ignoring Chiron's warning cry. He stared straight into Thalia's face but there was no recognition in his eyes. Of course not. He'd never met her.

Neither had the rest of the campers, but they were all silent and wary, evidently sensing that this wasn't normal.

'She needs nectar and ambrosia,' Percy said, looking around expectantly. The healers from Apollo exchanged looks, as if they knew this was no ordinary medical case. 'Come on!' Percy urged. 'What's wrong with you people?' He put his arm around Thalia and lifted her head and torso. 'Let's get her to the Big House!'

Thalia shuddered and coughed. Her eyes flew open and she stared at Percy. In a raspy voice, she said, 'Who …?'

A tingle went down my spine as Percy and Thalia locked eyes and I saw for the first time in real life just how similar they really looked.

'I'm Percy. You're safe now,' he said.

Thalia shook her head. 'Strangest dream … dying …'

My throat choked up. What had she experienced all these years? Had she felt the poison coursing through her when Luke had injected it? Or was she simply remembering the day six years ago, when she had been dying on the hill before Zeus transformed her?

'No, you're okay,' Percy said soothingly. 'What's your name?'

Thalia sat up a little straighter. She pulled away from Percy. Her bright blue eyes flashed as she took in the crowd of campers staring at her. It seemed to give her strength. Her chin jutted out defiantly as she announced, 'I am Thalia. Daughter of Zeus.'

A sob rose up in my throat and with it, my paralysis broke. I ran to Thalia and threw my arms around her. 'I can't believe it—the Fleece really did … oh, _Thalia_!'

Thalia stiffened. There was a jolt through my arms, as though I'd touched a live wire. From the way Percy jumped back, I guessed he'd been shocked, too. He looked at me in confusion. 

'What—'

Thalia backed up against the trunk of the tree as though she meant to melt back inside it. She raised her hands defensively. Her eyes were wild like a cornered animal's. Too late, I realised how startling it must be for her, to be thrown six years into the future. Although she looked more or less the same to me—maybe a little older, but then Thalia had looked much older than twelve to begin with— _I_ had probably changed markedly in the intervening time.

'It's me, Annabeth,' I said. Thalia's eyes widened in disbelief. I tried to explain. 'It's—you've been … uh …' How did you explain to someone that they had been a tree for the last six years?

Fortunately, Grover came up then. Satyrs age half as quickly as humans, so he was more recognisable.

'Grover,' Thalia said uncertainly. 

'You remember!' Grover said. 

'You do look … older.' She looked back at me. 'And … you're really Annabeth? But why are you …' She frowned like she was still picturing me as a seven-year-old.

'It's been six years,' I said gently.

'Where's Luke?' she demanded.

There was dead silence. Even the gathered campers, who had been whispering among themselves (' _THE Thalia—daughter of ZEUS—the one who made her stand on this hill!_ ') stopped abruptly. Everyone suddenly found something else to look at besides Thalia.

Chiron stepped forward. 'I am sure that there is a lot that Thalia will have to catch up on,' he said. 'But perhaps the peak of Half-Blood Hill is not the place for it.' He extended his hand to help her up, but Thalia pushed herself to her feet without assistance.

'I can walk,' she said. 'Where are we going?' Although the question seemed directed at Chiron, she looked at me. Her gaze was a bit warmer when she met my eyes, but still sharp and wary.

'To the Big House,' Chiron said. 'Camp headquarters. You can rest there while we arrange living quarters for you in your, ah, cabin.' He rubbed his scraggly beard thoughtfully. Obviously Thalia was going to be in the heretofore uninhabited cabin one. I wondered if anyone had even seen the inside of it before.

The other campers parted to allow him to lead Thalia past. Nearly all of them seemed star-struck. The whispers started up again. 'She's a _legend_!' I heard Silena Beauregard murmur to Katie Gardner.

'Campers,' Chiron reminded them, 'as there is no emergency, those of you not on guard duty should return to your cabins.'

I started to follow, but then I remembered _I_ was on guard duty. I cursed under my breath. 

'Percy.' I caught his arm. 'Will you—'

He started to nod, but Clarisse stepped up. She was the only one dressed in armour, and she actually looked a little crestfallen at not having a threat to defend against. I wondered if she slept in her battle gear. 

'I'll cover you,' she said, giving me a little shove. 'Go.'

Surprised but grateful, I ran after Chiron and Thalia.

We gathered in the infirmary, which was empty again now that there were no longer constant attacks on camp. Chiron frowned at Percy, Grover, and me as though considering sending us back to our cabins, too. I stepped up to Thalia and slipped my hand in hers. She didn't shock me this time, so I gave her a reassuring squeeze. Chiron sighed and addressed her.

'Thalia, what do you know of Camp Half-Blood?'

'Well, it's—it was—I mean, this is where Grover was bringing us, right?' She glanced at Grover, who nodded. 'A safe place for demigods? That's all true?'

'Yes,' Chiron said.

'And it's really been … six years.'

We all nodded.

'How …?'

'You were a tree,' Percy blurted out. 'Zeus—your dad—turned you into a tree to save you. Um, that's the story anyway.'

Thalia held up her hands and stared at them, as though not quite believing she had them. 'A tree,' she repeated softly.

'Yeah.'

'And Luke—he's not—the monsters didn't—?' Her voice cracked. My heart seemed to weigh ten extra pounds. Luke had been her best friend. How could I tell her what he'd done?

'Luke—' Percy started to say, but Chiron spoke over him.

'What can you remember, Thalia?'

Thalia didn't answer straight away. She went extremely still, as though she'd grown roots and planted herself to the infirmary floor. Or maybe I just thought that because I'd seen it actually happen before. 

When she finally spoke, her voice was a whisper. 'After the Fury struck me, I thought … I don't know. There were dreams. I … can't remember much.' She closed her eyes. 'I think …' Her hands drifted to her stomach, forming a circle like she was remembering a wound there. 'I was stabbed?'

'The puncture hole,' Percy said. 'You were poisoned—as a tree, I mean. It was Luke—he injected your trunk with elder python venom from Tartarus. It almost killed you—er, your tree.'

Thalia's face went white. 'What did you say?'

'Percy, maybe—' Grover said. 

'Luke poisoned you.'

Chiron stepped between Percy and Thalia. 'Percy, I think—'

Thalia's eyes blazed with anger. 'Get out,' she hissed. 'All of you, just—GET OUT!'

'Thalia,' I said, 'I know it's a lot to take in—'

'Go! Leave me alone!' she screamed. She sat back on one of the infirmary beds and covered her face with her hands.

'Percy, Annabeth, Grover, you'd better go,' Chiron said. 

'But—' I protested, not wanting to leave Thalia.

Chiron gripped our shoulders firmly and steered us to the door. 'You can come back later in the morning,' he said in a tone there was no arguing with. He closed the door behind us. I heard muffled sobs from Thalia and a sizzle that sounded suspiciously like an electrical socket being fried.

'She's pretty … intense,' Percy said. 

I turned on him, furious. 'You insensitive, kelp-headed jerk! What did you have to go telling her about Luke for?'

'What was I supposed to do, lie? She asked about it—she asked about him, too.'

'You didn't have to blurt it out like that! Did you even think how she'd feel? Luke was our friend!'

Percy's face turned red. 'Yeah, great friend he turned out to be, trying to kill you all!'

'Stop it, you guys.' Grover tugged at our arms. 'Chiron's going to come out and give us hell if you keep this up. Let's go, come on. We can talk about it— _calmly_ —outside.'

I pulled away from him. 'Don't bother, Grover,' I said, still glaring at Percy. 'There's nothing to discuss.'

'She was going to find out anyway,' Percy yelled after me as I marched off.

I went back to the hill to relieve Clarisse from guard duty. 'I owe you one,' I promised. Clarisse nodded tersely and left me to it.

Beckendorf came to relieve me a few hours later, when most of the camp was getting up for breakfast (if they had even gone back to sleep at all). I went straight to the Big House to find Thalia. She was alone in the infirmary, scowling as she picked at the blankets on her bed with her chewed-up fingernails. It didn't look as though she'd been sleeping. 

She looked up when I opened the door.

'Is it okay if I come in?'

Thalia shrugged and shifted on the bed to make room for me. I sat tentatively beside her.

'Are you okay? I'm sorry about what Percy said about Luke …'

'It's fine,' Thalia said. 'I—I actually … well, like I said, I had dreams. I remembered more of them. I think … what I saw in them … it matched with stuff from … before. And I spoke with Chiron.' She didn't elaborate on this. Her eyes looked dark and heavy. 'Anyway, I'm sorry I threw you out.'

'It's okay. I know it must be so strange for you.'

Thalia nodded. 'When I managed to sort everything out, stuff did kind of fall into place. I'm not sure how to explain it. It's like, I know I was a tree and I even have vague memories about that, but there aren't really words for it. I even think I remember you growing up, but it's all kind of fuzzy.'

'I visited you a lot. Your tree, I mean. Maybe that's it.'

'Maybe. Still, it's weird. You're, what, twelve now?'

'Thirteen.'

There was a bitter note to Thalia's laugh. 'Older than I am—was.'

'You were—you _are_ —loads braver though,' I said. 'I wanted to be like you.'

'You wanted to be a tree?'

'You know what I mean.'

Our eyes met and we started to laugh. I couldn't help thinking how much she was like Percy, with her dry sense of humour. It struck me that if you didn't count the years she'd spent as a tree, I'd actually known Percy for longer, now.

I probably shouldn't have gotten so mad at him. 

'I met the camp director,' Thalia said. 

'Mr D?' I was surprised. I'd never seen him appear before ten o'clock in the morning.

'Yeah. Apparently we're related.'

This was the truth, I realised. Of course, everyone in Greek mythology was related in some sense, so much so that we mostly just stopped counting beyond half-siblings. But being the daughter of Zeus meant that Thalia actually _was_ Mr D's half-sister.

I made a face. 'I'm not sure that's anything to get excited about.'

'He didn't seem too thrilled by the prospect either,' Thalia said.

'He's like that to all the campers. If he manages to get your name right, it's a miracle. You should see the way he acts towards Percy.'

'Right. So, uh, where do we get breakfast in this place? And Chiron said something about a tour …?'

'Come on,' I said. 'I'll take you.'

The dining pavilion grew very quiet when Thalia and I entered. It was a bit like when Percy had arrived last year, with everyone gawking at his Minotaur horn and speculating about his parentage and his powers. Except with Thalia, everyone knew she was a kid of the Big Three—the biggest of them all, in fact—and in the few short hours since she'd appeared on the hill, her story seemed to have done the rounds. Anyone who hadn't known the tale definitely would have heard it from a senior camper by now.

'Why are they all _staring_?' Thalia muttered. 'So I'm the new kid. Get over it already.'

'It's not that,' I said. 'You're kind of a big deal. What you did six years ago—fighting the monsters so Luke—' I hesitated, seeing her face shutter off at his name, but forged ahead, 'and Grover and me could get to safety … it's one of the camp legends. Your tree made a magical barrier that protected the whole camp. The hill is even named after you.'

'You named a hill Thalia?'

'No—Half-Blood Hill.' I led her up to the very first stone table, that had always stood empty. 'This is your table—cabin one.'

'Chiron said something about that. It's for my dad?'

I nodded. 'Each Olympian has a cabin. We're all sorted by our parents, so some of them are honorary—or were, until, well …'

'Until I showed up,' Thalia finished.

'Yes. It was the same for Percy.' I indicated Poseidon's table, which was next to hers. 'He's a son of Poseidon. He wasn't supposed to—well, the Big Three aren't supposed to have demigod children, not any more.' Too late, I remembered that Thalia probably wouldn't know any of this either. It was something I'd learned after coming to camp. She didn't react to it, though. Maybe Chiron had explained it to her.

Percy came up from the central brazier, holding his half-filled plate. 'Hi,' he said cautiously.

'You're the boy from last night,' Thalia said, looking him up and down. 'Percy.'

'Um, yeah. Hey, about what I said—'

Thalia shook her head. 'Forget about it. I don't want to talk about it.'

'Er, okay.' Percy glanced at table one. The nymphs had apparently been briefed about Thalia's arrival, because they'd left a platter with fresh fruit, bread, and cheese on it. 'We have to sit at our tables, but it looks like we're sort of neighbours,' he said. The two tables were close enough that if they sat on the adjacent benches, it would almost be as though they were eating together.

I showed Thalia to the burning brazier in the centre of the pavilion where we made our food offerings to our parents. Her face was unreadable as she tossed in two apples and a chunk of cheese.

'Zeus,' she said. I didn't know what she was thinking. Did she feel grateful to her dad for saving her life? Or was she angry that he'd stolen six years of her life from her?

I remembered what I'd told Percy during our quest, that Thalia, like him, wouldn't turn against Olympus even if she got mad sometimes. It had all been hypothetical then, of course. Now that Thalia was actually _here_ , I had to wonder. _Would_ she be on our side? Or could Kronos manipulate her like he had Luke?

I ate breakfast as fast as I could so that I could get back to Thalia. She and Percy were sitting sidewise on their benches so that they were almost side by side. They looked like they could have been siblings, with their matching black hair and wiry builds. They had been joined by one of the camp dryads, a pretty young girl with light green skin and mossy hair. She introduced herself as Juniper, and asked Thalia the question that had occurred to me when she first appeared: 'You came out of a tree. Are you a dryad, too?'

'No,' Thalia said. 'At least, I don't think so. I mean, I feel the same as always. You know—mortal. Though I think I'm probably older.' She looked at me. 'I definitely hope so, anyway. It's weird enough to think of you as the same age as me, let alone _older_.'

Percy's eyebrows furrowed as he did the math. 'You should be eighteen, right?'

'Nearly nineteen,' Thalia said. 'My birthday's in December.'

He gave me a significant look and the realisation hit me then.

_A half-blood of the eldest gods; shall reach sixteen against all odds_.

Did this mean that Thalia was the child of the prophecy all along, just as Chiron had believed years ago?

I shivered as I remembered something else from my dreams: Kronos telling Luke, ' _We will no longer need Percy Jackson. He is an unreliable weapon—he must be replaced._ '

And Luke had asked about a girl. 'You won't let her die,' he had said. 'That was the bargain.' I'd thought he'd meant me, but what if this had been the plan all along—the great gamble he'd taken? What if he'd poisoned the tree to begin with so that they had a chance to bring Thalia back to life?

Thalia looked between me and Percy curiously. 'What?' she said. 'Why do you guys look like that?'

'Nothing,' Percy said. 'It's just really weird.'

'Tell me about it.' She polished off the last of her breakfast. Juniper cleared the plates away. At the head table, Chiron called for attention. 

'We welcome a new camper among us today. Many of you will already know the story of Thalia's pine tree, especially given Clarisse's quest to save it this year. Happily, the Golden Fleece has done more than revive the tree's life and magic—it has also given one of our own back to us: Thalia, daughter of Zeus!'

Everyone clapped. Thalia's cheeks went pink.

'I have also other happy news. We will restart our capture the flag schedule this Friday evening.' He paused until the cheers at this announcement died down. 'Yes, I see you are all excited. You have a few days to make your alliances and plan your strategy. Athena currently holds the laurels, but I am sure they will have some strong challengers to face.'

'What's capture the flag?' Thalia asked.

'Oh, just you wait,' Percy said. 'It's fantastic.' He grinned at me. 'Allies as usual?'

'Of course. And Thalia will be on our team, too.'

I gave Thalia the tour of the valley after breakfast. We started at the cabins, where I explained our living arrangements and showed her cabin one. It was the biggest of all, an ostentatious building of white marble with solid columns framing a set of bronze doors that shimmered with the imprint of lightning bolts. I'd never even glimpsed the inside of it before.

The first thing I thought when we stepped through the doors was that this wasn't a place to live. The room was circular with a high, domed ceiling covered in mosaic tiles. They were painted light blue and white and their colours changed occasionally to grey with golden flashes like lightning that drew attention to the central feature of the cabin: a twenty-foot statue of Zeus. The status held a shield in one hand. The other was raised high above his head, wielding a massive lightning bolt as though he meant to send it crashing down on us intruders. 

There was no furniture whatsoever in the room. It was like whoever had built the place had never intended for anyone to inhabit it. The place was more like a shrine, with more status embedded in alcoves in the circular walls: eagles on marble pedestals, bull heads glaring menacingly, bronze braziers that were currently unlit. Most of them were dusty from years of neglect. Some had cobwebs across their corners, which made me shiver although no spiders scuttled out. 

Thalia grimaced. 'Nice bedroom,' she said dryly.

'We'll get you a bedroll from the camp store,' I said. 

The Stoll brothers were hanging about the store as usual, and they just about fell over their feet in their eagerness to equip Thalia. Before long, we'd set her up with not only a bedroll and blankets, but a backpack full of general supplies—toiletries, towels, and a stack of camp t-shirts. Thalia wrinkled her nose at the orange colour, but didn't complain. 

'Thanks,' I told them. 'Also, is Hermes still with us for capture the flag this Friday?'

'You bet,' Travis said. He grinned at Thalia. 'You joining us, too?'

'Sure,' Thalia said. 

That reminded me that we should get Thalia fitted out for weapons as well. After taking her round the other camp stations, I ended our tour at the armoury. Thalia looked around appreciatively at our stores of celestial bronze weapons.

'This is great,' she said, running her fingers down a spear. 'Reminds me of our hideouts. More well-stocked, though.'

She scanned the room as though looking for something in particular. 'Do you know what happened to Aegis?'

'Your shield,' I remembered. 'Well …' I looked around the room. The armoury had a lot of old demigod weapons, stuff that had been passed down over the years after their previous owners had died, but I didn't recall ever seeing Aegis showed up. And I would have noticed. It was pretty distinctive. 

Luke must have taken care of everything Thalia had left behind. Had he kept them with him? I didn't know where he could have hidden them all this while—definitely not in the crowded Hermes cabin. Then I thought of another place where demigod relics might end up.

'We could try the attic,' I said. 'In the Big House.'

I wasn't keen on visiting the attic, where the mummified Oracle resided, but I led Thalia up the four flights of stairs nonetheless. The old hero trophies were all there, collecting dust on the shelves. I immediately spotted the pink scarf of Aphrodite that I'd recovered last year, draped over a broken sword hilt. It bore a tag now that said:

SCARF OF THE GODDESS APHRODITE  
Recovered at Waterland, Denver, Co.,   
by Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson

Thalia picked up a pickle jar containing a head with glowing eyes like burning candles. ' _AMPHISBAENA TAIL-END HEAD_ ,' she read. ' _Severed in Phoenix, Arizona. Avoid eye contact under full moon_. That's disgusting. What _is_ this stuff?'

'Trophies,' I said, taking the jar from her. The amphisbaena's eyes were oddly hypnotising. I had to drag my gaze away from it. On the bottom of the tag, below the lines Thalia had read, someone had written in urgent capital letters, _RIP MADDY. NB: MONSTER REATTACHES IF CUT IN HALF_. I set it back on the shelf. 'Spoils of war. Heroes have been stashing things here since ... well, I don't know when it started.'

We picked through the junk on a cluttered table. There was a cracked shield lying on top of a bunch of random monster parts—bones and claws and what I thought might be a giant bird beak—but it wasn't Aegis. The surface was burnished silver and bore only a faintly etched circle in the centre, split down the middle by the crack. I was about to set it back down over the monster parts when one of them caught my eye: a large golden dragon's claw, with a wickedly sharp point. I put the shield aside and picked up the claw.

CLAW OF THE DRAGON LADON  
Retrieved by Luke Castellan   
from the Garden of the Hesperides

'Luke,' Thalia whispered, reading over my shoulder. 'When …?'

'A few years ago,' I said. 'He got a quest. But he didn't complete it. I think … that might have been when this all started. He wasn't the same after.'

As far as I knew, Luke had never spoken to anyone about what he'd encountered on his quest. He'd returned with his face scarred, having lost his companions and without the golden apple he'd set out to retrieve. It had seemed explanation enough for how angry he had been when he got back. Now I wondered if there had been something more, something in the garden that had changed him. 

Thalia frowned. 'The Garden of the Hesperides. I know that legend. It's supposed to sit on the very edge of civilisation.'

'Like the last point where the gods' influence extends to,' I mused. 'You don't think that's where he met Kronos?' I thought of a cliff edge in the Underworld where I'd once been. It fell into the deep chasm that was Tartarus. Standing there a few years ago, Percy, Grover, and I had heard the disembodied voice of Kronos call up from the pit. 

There were myths that you could fall into Tartarus from the mortal world, too. Might there be such a precipice somewhere in the United States?

If there was, I'd put money on it being on the West Coast. 

'I don't know, Annabeth. I wish …' But she didn't finish her sentence. She took the dragon's claw, shoved it back under the silver shield, and turned resolutely away to the other side of the room. 

We kept on looking, picking through more pickled parts, broken weapons, and random souvenirs like car bumpers and garden globes. 

'There!' Thalia said suddenly, pouncing on a carved bronze idol. I was confused at first, unsure why she'd singled it out. The statue was hideous, with two ugly faces protruding from a single head. Someone had scrawled across its chest, _CHOOSE WISELY OR FOREVER REGRET_. 

Then Thalia scooped up a mace canister leaning against the grotesque statue's legs and pulled a bracelet off its hand. She spun it in a circle in the air. 'Aegis!' 

I nearly had a heart attack as the shield expanded from the bracelet and I found myself facing a twelve-inch protruding bronze mask of Medusa. I stumbled back and tripped over the feet of the Oracle. 

'Sorry!' Thalia said. She quickly shrunk Aegis back into bracelet form and leaned over to help me up. 'What's _that_?' she said, looking at the mummy. The Oracle stared back at her with glassy eyes. 

'Don't!' I said, suddenly afraid of what the Oracle might show. I still didn't know what Thalia's return meant for the Great Prophecy, but I'd learned that approaching the Oracle could give you more than you bargained for. 'Don't ask her anything. Just—come on.' I pulled Thalia away.

'What was that?' she asked again when we'd descended the steps from the attic. 'Some kind of zombie guardian?'

'The Oracle of Delphi,' I explained. 'She—she's the speaker of prophecies. When we get a quest, we got to her to get one, but sometimes … well, she delivers other prophecies, too, and they're rarely good.'

Thalia's eyes darkened. 'Prophecies,' she repeated. There was a funny catch in her voice. 

'You know about the prophecy?' I wondered if Chiron had told her about it, when they'd talked. It seemed unlikely, but …

'I heard one once,' she said grimly. 'Before I met you. Luke and I—well, let's just say I'm not a fan of prophecies.' There was a finality to her tone that said she wasn't going to discuss it further.

'Right,' I said. 'Well, at least you've got your weapons.'

Thalia nodded. 'What now?'

'Now,' I said, 'we plan for battle.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, show of hands, which of you actually remembered Leuke from chapter two? (Be honest, now!) ;) I know I promised action, and it is coming! But I hope you'll enjoy having Thalia around for a bit. I certainly did!
> 
> The description of cabin one is referenced from _The Lost Hero_ , but with some embellishments. A few lines of dialogue at the start of the chapter are from the final chapter of _SoM_.


	26. Percy And Thalia Fry A Pig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke's allies make their play for the Fleece, and Percy and Thalia learn to co-operate.

We won capture the flag almost too easily. Ares had allied with practically every other cabin, as Clarisse had plenty of social capital after leading the quest for the Golden Fleece. That might have proved a challenge for our Athena-Hermes alliance, if not for Percy and Thalia. I set them on defence and as I expected, one sight of Aegis was enough to send most campers running. Percy took care of the rest easily with Riptide.

Having successfully thwarted any attempt on our flag, I skirted the woods under my Yankees cap, sent the rest of my team in as a decoy to occupy the line of Apollo defenders Clarisse had set to protect their flag, and snatched it out from under the nose of Michael Yew. I sprinted back invisibly to our territory and ended the game.

Clarisse stomped across the river, very red in the face, and strode right up up Michael.

'You idiot! I told you to guard the flag!'

Being at least two heads taller, she towered over him, but Michael stood his ground. He slung his bow over his shoulder and put his hands on his hips.

'She was _invisible_ ,' he said. 'Plus, it's not like _you_ did any better getting past them.' He jerked his head at Percy and Thalia, who were carrying the Athena flag back down to the river.

'Why, you little runt—'

'Lay off him, Clarisse,' Percy said, stepping in. 'It was a fair game. You lost.'

She spun around, spear in hand. 'Stay out of this, punk!' She jabbed the spear at his armour and Percy was thrown onto his back, sizzling from the jolt of electricity it had thrown out. 

'I told you I'd still pulverise you,' Clarisse said. 'How do you like a taste of Maimer? That's for breaking my last electric spear.'

Percy got to his feet and drew Riptide. 'What, did your daddy buy you a new toy?'

'It was a _reward_ ,' Clarisse snarled, brandishing Maimer again.

Thalia shoved the Athena flag into the hands of a nearby camper and marched forward. 'Stop it,' she said, knocking Maimer aside. The electricity didn't bother her at all. Clarisse looked surprised. She sized up Thalia with an appraising look in her eyes.

'Or what?' she said, a challenge in her voice. It held an undercurrent of excitement as well, like she was eager to see what else Thalia could do.

Thalia didn't answer. She tightened her grip on Maimer and suddenly Clarisse was flat on _her_ back. Thalia had reversed the electricity up the spear and sent it to shock Clarisse. Everyone stared, impressed, but also wondering how Clarisse would respond to this. Given how she had held a grudge against Percy ever since he used his water powers to humiliate her, I didn't think she would be too happy that Thalia was doing the same. To my surprise, when Clarisse got to her feet, she looked at Thalia with respect in her eyes. She snatched Maimer back and nodded curtly to Thalia.

I remembered a conversation I'd had with Clarisse a few weeks ago: ' _I didn't know her_ ,' she'd said about Thalia, ' _but she had guts_.' I wondered if maybe Clarisse had looked up to Thalia as a role model as well. Maybe this show of Thalia's power, rather than angering Clarisse, had solidified her respect.

Percy, on the other hand, looked disgruntled. 'I can fight my own battles, you know,' he grumbled.

'And you were doing so well against electricity.'

'I can handle Clarisse.'

'Yeah, sure.'

I was reminded of something I'd told Percy: _either you would've been best friends or you would've strangled each other_. It was looking like they might go down that second option right now. 

I stepped in quickly, not wanting another stand-off. 'Good job, guys,' I said. 'We won.'

Thalia patted her bracelet smugly. 'You were right. Everyone nearly wet themselves at the sight of Aegis. Even Percy—'

'I did not,' Percy said. 'I was only startled.'

I held up my hand. 'We actually met Medusa,' I said, changing the subject before another argument could break out.

Things went on like that for the next few weeks. The game seemed to have sparked a challenge between Percy and Thalia, like they had to prove which of them was stronger. They competed every chance they got: at archery, where Thalia demonstrated her flawless aim (Percy sulked when she not only hit all the bulls-eyes, but proceeded to prove her point by lodging a final arrow that split his cleanly down the shaft); at sword-fighting, where Percy had the upper hand (cheering him up considerably); at wrestling, where I had to break up their fight (and I schooled them both with a mean judo flip). 

I remembered the dream I'd had of Percy and Thalia fighting over the river. I hoped that they weren't heading that way, to opposite sides in the war. Now that the prophecy seemed to apply more to Thalia, I was very afraid that she might decide to join Luke and Kronos. If it came down to a choice between her and Percy …

_A single choice shall end his days._

I didn't really want to think about that.

On my birthday, July 12, the two of them must have called a truce because they banded together to make me a cake. It was kind of sloppy, and for some reason it was all blue, but I was touched by the effort (and relieved that they'd stopped fighting). We ate it at one of the special tables I'd designed for the new art and crafts cabin. Beckendorf was currently leading the project to build up the area according to my plans, with evenly-spaced bamboo pillars marking out the zone instead of log walls. Now you could look out at the whole camp while working on your craft projects and get inspiration from the view, or maybe from the mini hedge maze that the satyrs were growing between the cabin and the canoe lake. It was only ankle height at the moment, though, like a little winding patch of garden plants.

It was a lazy, warm afternoon. We could hear a bunch of campers laughing as they paddled in the canoe lake, with the occasional whoop as they overturned each other's boats. A paired of winged Pegasi circled overhead. Silena Beauregard was giving a riding lesson. She was on her favourite chestnut Pegasus with a dappled mane, while her student rode the pure-black Pegasus that had been on the _Princess Andromeda_ with us. It had followed us all the way to camp. Percy, who could understand horses, said his name was Blackjack and he was grateful for our help in freeing him from Luke's captivity. 

'I don't like flying,' Thalia commented as she watched the Pegasi soar above us.

'Me neither,' Percy said. 'Your dad kind of threatened to blast me out of the sky if I ever got on a plane.'

She glared at him as if to say, _you're not seriously blaming_ me _for that, are you?_

'Pegasi are okay, though. I think it's because my dad made horses, so I get a pass with them.' He took a big bite of blue cake. 'So why don't you like flying? I mean, you're the daughter of Zeus. It's sorta like your birth right.'

'I just don't,' Thalia said. She picked up my bronze knife, which was sitting on the table. We'd used it to cut the cake. 'Annabeth, is this …'

It was the first time she'd seen it since coming back, I realised. Although I carried it on me constantly, it was always hidden under my sleeve. I hadn't used it at capture the flag or in any of our training sessions.

'Yeah,' I said. 'It's the same blade.'

Thalia looked like she wanted to say something more about it, but at that moment, there was a commotion up on Half-Blood Hill. Two campers appeared to be wrestling at the pine tree. One of them was so tiny it could only be Michael Yew. The other had the bulky build of one of the Ares campers. 

'We'd better see what's going on,' Percy said. 

I sheathed my knife and we ran up the hill.

The kid Michael was grappling with turned out to be Casey Cartwright, one of the older daughters of Ares. She'd been at camp maybe two years, and had only been claimed last summer. Michael was on her back with his arms wrapped around her neck, while she tried to throw him off.

'Annabeth!' Michael yelled when he saw me. 'Get the horn—sound the alarm—she's trying to steal the Fleece!'

'What?'

Percy ran for the conch horn, lying at the base of the tree, just as Casey flung Michael to the ground. Casey tackled Percy with a flying leap and they landed in a heap of flailing limbs. Percy managed to toss the conch horn over to Thalia, who blew it, alerting the camp to the emergency. Campers thundered up the hill, led by Clarisse. When she saw Michael, she brandished her spear, Maimer, at him.

' _You_!' she snarled. 'I knew you were bad news!'

'I didn't do anything!' Michael protested. 'I was handing over guard duty and I happened to turn back and I saw her lifting the Fleece off the tree!'

'Lies!' Clarisse said, but everyone looked at Casey, who was pinning Percy to the ground. He tried to reach for his pocket, for his pen, but Casey was bigger and stronger. 

Thalia and I ran to help him. We managed to drag Casey off, but then two other campers pulled us away from her and held our arms behind our backs.

'Everyone stop!' A camper named Phineas Jordan stepped forward. He was one of the undetermined kids in Hermes cabin, who tended to blend into the crowd. He dragged Drew Tanaka into view, his arm around her shoulders, holding a sharp knife to her neck. 'Nobody move! You're all going to sit quietly and listen to us, now.'

The tables had turned so quickly, I was too stunned to react. Percy had gotten his pen out, but he hadn't uncapped it yet, hesitating as he stared at Phineas and Drew. Drew looked both terrified and outraged to find herself a hostage of a fellow camper. My captor pushed me to my knees and let go. It was Timothy Greaser, also from the Hermes cabin. He went over to stand with Phineas, along with Casey and a handful of others. They formed a line behind Phineas, facing the rest of us. There were about fifteen of them, mostly undetermined kids, but a number were from the other cabins, too—Ares, Demeter, even Aphrodite. We stared at them in shock and betrayal, still too stunned to process what was truly happening.

'Where's Chiron?' Katie Gardner murmured. 'Why isn't he coming?'

'Chiron and Dionysus are both out—Argus took them to see someone about a guard for the Fleece,' Pollux Gable said.

'We don't want to hurt anyone,' Phineas said, although his knife was still pressed threateningly against Drew's throat. 

'Let go of her, then!' Percy said.

'Just a little incentive to get your attention,' Phineas said. 'I have a proposal for everyone here. We've suffered weeks of brutal attacks and what did the gods do for us? Nothing—we had to risk one of our own to save us, and even then, we get no thanks. It's time we stopped accepting the indifference of the gods. We've been told that Luke ran away and became our enemy, but that's not true—'

'He poisoned Thalia's tree!' Percy argued. 'He's raising Kronos—'

'He's raising an army against Olympus,' Phineas corrected. 'An army of demigods and monsters, working together.' 

There were nervous murmurs among the campers.

'Imagine what it would be like if you no longer had to fear monsters,' Phineas continued. 'If they stop trying to kill you but work for you instead. Luke has managed it! Join us—join the army, and you'll have revenge against all the slights our parents have ever dealt us. Instead of living in fear of monster attacks, turn the tables and watch them attack your enemies!' He looked at Thalia. 'And you—you had to fight off a whole army of monsters, and how did Zeus reward you? You lost six years of your life, forced to stand on a hill and protect a camp—I bet you didn't have any choice in that. You must be really angry, being played like a pawn in a feud between Zeus and Hades.'

Thalia glared at him, but I could see that some of what Phineas said had hit home. A flurry of expressions flickered across her face—doubt, anger, uncertainty. She wasn't the only one. Many of the other campers shifted their weight uneasily as they considered what Phineas was saying. Nobody moved. It was like Phineas had cast a spell on us with his words.

It was Clarisse who broke the spell. She yelled at Phineas, 'You're Kronos's spy! You're a traitor—you're all traitors!' She raised Maimer and glared at the fifteen rebel campers, especially Casey Cartwright. 

Phineas dug his knife warningly into Drew's skin.

'No, please!' Drew cried as he drew a tiny bead of blood.

We had to get Drew away from Phineas first. My mind cleared and started taking in all the elements of the situation. Assuming the campers _not_ on Phineas's side weren't convinced to join him, we outnumbered them at least two-to-one. He was using the hostage situation to keep our hands tied, but if I could neutralise that, he'd lose his advantage. 

I felt in my pocket. Fortunately, my magic hat was there.

'Clarisse is right,' Will Solace said. 'You're crazy if you think you're actually going to work with monsters. The monsters will just turn around and eat you!'

Phineas glared at him. 'Perhaps you just need a demonstration. In fact, I think I'll show you just what I mean. If you join us, you'll be safe. But if not … you'll see exactly how willing the monsters are to do our bidding—against our enemies.'

Casey Cartwright raised her hand like she was performing a summons. There was a pause and then she said, 'It's not working. I'm trying, but the barrier's holding!'

I felt a surge of hope. They were trying to summon a monster past the barrier, the way Luke had called a hellhound to attack Percy last summer, but the magical borders seemed enhanced now by the power of the Fleece.

Phineas snarled in frustration. 'Well, get the Fleece!'

Timothy Greaser ran to the tree. I took my chance and put on my Yankees cap. Nobody seemed to notice when I vanished. I snuck quickly around the line of rebel campers and grabbed Phineas from behind, twisting his knife away from Drew. She scrambled away from him just as Timothy pulled the Fleece off the tree's branches.

The hilltop erupted into chaos. The moment the Fleece was off the tree, Casey's summons worked. A warthog the size of a rhinoceros charged through the barrier, bowling through a group of campers like they were skittles. Its head was almost completely bald, with nothing except sparse, bristly hairs and a jagged crest that rose between its ears and continued running along its back. Two enormous tusks protruded from either side of its snout. Their points were as sharp as spears.

I didn't have much time to take this all in, though. Phineas turned and grabbed hold of my arm, throwing me off balance. I stumbled in the middle of the fifteen rebel campers, my cap flying off my head and rendering me visible again. Phineas's knife came down in an arc. I would have been stabbed if I hadn't rolled away instinctively at the flash of movement. It grazed my shoulder, though, sending pain rippling through my arm. 

There was a yell of rage and a massive wall of water came rising up all the way from the canoe lake. It slammed into Phineas, knocking him off his feet and scattering the rebel campers away from me. I saw Clarisse jump into battle with Maimer, electrocuting the rebels who tried to stop her as she chased after Timothy and the Fleece. The warthog leapt over her head, inserting itself between them. Clarisse cursed and tried to spear it, but it was pretty nimble for a massive pig, and it dodged all her jabs.

'He's getting away!' Clarisse screamed. 

Percy was duelling Phineas sword to dagger, but with a downward slash of his hand, he sent the lake water crashing to the ground in a spiral. It tunnelled around the hill in front of Timothy, forming a ditch and filling it like a moat. Timothy fell right in and was immediately tossed around like a rubber boat in a churning sea. He gurgled and flailed his arms helplessly. Clarisse jumped right in and grabbed the Fleece away from him.

The warthog skidded to a stop before it could fall into the water, turned, and came back round for another charge, but Thalia activated Aegis and it ran straight into the face of Medusa. The warthog's tusks crumpled. Aegis wasn't even dented. 

Meanwhile, Percy fought Phineas right up to the edge of the ditch and forced him in as well. Our campers seemed to get the idea and they began to push back the traitors, trapping them in Percy's moat. Percy helped Clarisse out with the Fleece and then he stood at the edge, controlling the water so that waves buffeted the traitors when they tried to swim out. 

Thalia came at the warthog with the spear, but injuring its tusks hadn't slowed it down. It pawed angrily at the ground and charged at Clarisse, who was sprinting back up the hill with the Fleece. Even with its tusks dented, at that speed, it would still be able to gore her. 

'No!' I cried. Ignoring my injured shoulder, I took a flying leap and landed on its back as it passed me. It bucked wildly as I tried to hang on with my knees and sink my dagger into its neck. Unfortunately, it had hide like stone. 

I changed tactics and grabbed hold of its ears instead, yanking its head like I would the reins of a horse, steering it towards the water. With a splash, we landed in Percy's moat. 

Thalia came running down the hill. 'Annabeth, get out _now_!'

Percy let the water go slack around me. I paddled furiously to his side and he hauled me out. The rebel campers took the chance to scramble out the other side. 

The moment I was out of the water, a bolt of lightning came from the sky and concentrated on Thalia's spear. She jabbed it at the moat and the lightning hit the water, electrocuting the entire ditch, along with the warthog. The force of it was so great, the warthog was tossed into the air with its tough hide sizzling. Then it exploded into fine ash. 

We stood on opposite sides of the ditch, the fifteen traitors on the far side down the hill and about sixty of us facing them on the camp side. The traitors seemed to recognise that they'd lost the fight. They fled down the hill. 

Phineas Jordan was the last to leave. He looked directly at Thalia from across the moat.

'Don't do this, Thalia,' he said. 'Come with us. It's Luke's revolution. He said you belong with him.'

Thalia pointed her spear at him. Her face was contorted with anger. 'You tell Luke he can come and tell me himself.'

Phineas gave up and joined the fleeing demigods. Clarisse ran back from the tree, on which she'd laid the Fleece, and shook her fist at their retreating backs. 'Shock them, Thalia!' she screamed. 'They're spies and traitors—kill them all!'

Thalia's expression was livid. For a second, I thought she might actually do it. Then Percy put a hand on her arm.

'No,' he said firmly. 'They're demigods like us. We can't.'

'You idiot!' Clarisse fumed. 'They're just going to run to Luke and they'll send more monsters to attack!'

'We can't just kill demigods in cold blood,' Percy insisted. 'We'd be no better than Kronos.'

Thalia lowered her spear. It shrank into a mace canister, which she pocketed. Aegis returned to bracelet form around her wrist. 'He's right,' she said. 'If we kill one another, we're just doing the monsters' jobs for them. We have to be better than that.'

A look of understanding passed between their eyes. 

'Nice trick with the lightning,' Percy said.

'Likewise,' Thalia said. 'With the water and all.'

Lee Fletcher stepped forward. 'What can we do to protect the camp, though? I mean, we just saw how desperate Luke is to steal the Fleece.'

'We keep guarding it,' Katie Gardner said like it was obvious.

'And if someone else tries to make off with it?' Michael said. He glared at Clarisse, clearly still insulted that she hadn't believed him earlier.

'But we've run all the traitors off,' Castor Gable pointed out.

'What makes you think we don't have any more spies among us?' Drew said angrily, rubbing at the thin scar on her throat where Phineas's knife had pierced it. 'The lot of them were here all along. What's to say one of us isn't biding his or her time?'

Everyone shifted uneasily. It was true that Luke had had spies lying low at camp all along—he'd even told Percy and me when we'd met on the _Princess Andromeda_. I cursed myself for having forgotten it. But so many campers … I hadn't imagined the extent to which Kronos had managed to infiltrate our camp.

'We can't think like that,' Silena Beauregard said finally. Her face was white and scared. 'We've already lost fifteen campers. If we can't even trust whoever's left … well, it's like Percy and Thalia said. It's already _wrong_ for demigods to be fighting one another. We can't fight among ourselves, too.'

'Yeah.' Beckendorf backed her up. 'If we're all suspicious of each other, Kronos has already won.' Silena threw him a grateful look and he ducked his head shyly.

'But the Fleece,' Clarisse insisted. 'We need to make absolutely sure it's safe.'

'I think I can take care of that.' 

We all turned at the new voice. Chiron was standing on the other side of the ditch, surveying the scene before him with raised eyebrows. Behind him stood Argus, leading a baby dragon on a leash, and Mr D, who was more hovering a few inches over the grass rather than actually standing.

'Dear me,' said Mr D impassively. 'Did we miss the party?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've taken a lot of liberty with canon here. However, we know Luke was recruiting, and in BotL, Percy mentions that some of the campers had joined Luke. We also know that Luke had spies since SoM; also he doesn't appear to have returned to camp after his departure in LT. So my take on it is that he already got campers on his side before he left. (We already know of two: Silena—who didn't get caught—and Chris, who left either with him or on his own.) He's a charming guy when he wants to be _and_ he was head of his cabin. His demigod army in later books had to come from somewhere and I doubt they were _all_ found outside camp. Also, surely he would have made _some_ play for the Fleece at some point. So this here's my speculation on all of it. As to why we never hear about it (other than the fact that I've made it up) … let's just go with people not liking to talk much about big betrayals by friends. Anyway, I hope I've made it all plausible enough and at the very least, you enjoyed reading!


	27. The Prophecy Is Finally Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth finally hears the two lines of the Great Prophecy that she didn't know before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally part of the previous one, but it was getting so long and thematically different that I split them up. Just one more chapter to go after this one!

There was a moment of silence. Then all the senior campers started talking at once, our voices jumbling over one another's. 

'We were betrayed—'

'Fifteen campers ran off—'

'It was Luke, he—'

'There was a warthog and—'

Chiron held up his hand. 'Annabeth, if you'd be so kind as to summarise?'

I explained quickly how Phineas had led the camp traitors in revolt and we'd fought back. Chiron listened attentively, but Mr D yawned and produced a glossy magazine from the folds of his jacket and began perusing it while I spoke. 

When I was finished, Chiron nodded. 'I see. Well, it seems our timing could have been better. But to address Clarisse's concern about safeguarding the Fleece, we have indeed acquired a guardian.' He frowned at the moat separating us. 'Mr D, if you would be so kind as to level the ground first?' 

Mr D folded his magazine, gave Chiron a weary look, and raised his hand. Percy's moat shimmered for a second, and then the ditch levelled out, returning the slope of the hill to normal. Chiron and Argus led the baby dragon up to the tree, where it settled at the foot with a little snort. Smoke blew out of its nostrils. 

'Thanks to our ad in _Olympus Weekly_ , we managed to find Peleus,' Chiron explained, gesturing to the dragon. 'He will now be responsible for guarding the Fleece.'

'What about Kronos?' Percy asked. 'He's still rising—Luke said that every new recruit they get helps put him back together, and they just got fifteen more demigods!'

'And what do you propose we do, Peter Jordan?' Mr D said dryly.

'Percy Jackson.'

Mr D waved his hand as if to say Percy's name was immaterial. 'By all means, leave and go off on your own to attack this Lucas fellow. From what I understand, you nearly got yourself killed by him several times already. Perhaps he will finally finish the job. Maybe that might even be a blessing. After all, _your_ bright idea to quest for the Fleece netted us all neatly in the Titan lord's trap.'

Percy's grip around the hilt of Riptide tightened so much, his knuckles turned white. He glanced nervously at Thalia and then looked down at his feet. My mouth felt dry. The other campers looked confused, but I knew what Mr D was talking about. Luke's gamble was just another layer in Kronos's plans. Maybe Kronos had played Luke, too, pretending like he was doing Luke a favour in giving Thalia another chance at life, when all along he _wanted_ Thalia to replace Percy as the child in the prophecy.

 _She shall serve us_ , I remembered Kronos saying in my dreams, and I knew now for certain that the 'she' hadn't meant me at all.

'What do you mean?' Thalia said. 'What trap?'

Mr D gave her a long, measured look. 'Chiron,' he said finally, 'you tell her. All this talk about Titans and their plans is giving me a headache. I could use a glass of merlot …'

'Dionysus, remember—'

'Yes, the cursed restrictions,' Mr D growled. 'It'll have to be Diet Coke. A full jug, at least.' He tucked his magazine under one arm and floated off towards the Big House, snapping his fingers and muttering, 'Where's a blasted satyr when you need one?' 

Five satyrs peeled away from our group and danced immediately to his service.

'Percy,' Chiron said, 'will you and Clarisse take care of the wounded here?'

Percy capped Riptide and slid the pen into his pocket. 'Yeah, okay.' He and Clarisse started organising the other campers to get the ones who had been wounded by the charging warthog to the infirmary. 

'What did Dionysus mean?' Thalia asked. 'What trap was he talking about?'

'It's the prophecy, isn't it?' I said. 'It was a set-up from the start. Kronos is trying to control it. He wants it to mean Thalia, not Percy.'

Chiron put a hand on each of our shoulders. 'Come to the Big House,' he said. 'We must talk.'

In his apartments, Chiron set two goblets of iced tea before Thalia and me, but neither of us touched them.

'There has been some consternation among the Olympians about your return, Thalia,' Chiron said. 

'Well, it's not like they don't have the power to reverse it if they want,' Thalia said bitterly.

'Yes, but such meddling is frowned upon by the ancient laws. And some feel that the very fact that you are here now is proof that the prophecy is already in motion. Lady Artemis, in particular, has argued that it is pointless to thwart what is already set in stone; rather, we should work within its confines to shape the future to our best advantage. Of course, many are still in denial that the Titan lord could indeed rise from Tartarus. Perhaps with the new information we have about Luke's demigod army, Dionysus could convince them that the threat is real.'

'You keep talking about a prophecy. What _is_ it?'

I expected Chiron to refuse to tell her, the way he had tried to keep it from Percy, both on orders from the gods and out of a desire to protect him. However, he said, 'I will tell you—Lord Zeus has agreed that you may be better off knowing—but I must warn you that it is dangerous knowledge.' He looked at me. 'Annabeth, again I will leave the choice up to you whether you wish to stay to hear this.'

Last year, Chiron had offered me this choice: he could reveal the remainder of the prophecy, the lines I had missed when I'd heard it years ago. I had chosen to wait. If Thalia was going to hear it, though, I decided it was time for me to learn what the full prophecy was, too. I knew I was going to have a part in it, although it wasn't clear what. Chiron and I had thought my role would be to guide Percy, but that was when we believed the prophecy to refer to him. Now that it was likely to be Thalia …

Well, she was my friend, too. I nodded and said, 'Yes, I'm staying.'

Thalia threw me a grateful look. Chiron took a deep breath. 'The prophecy is as follows:

 _A half-blood of the eldest gods,_  
Shall reach sixteen against all odds,  
And see the world in endless sleep,  
The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap.'

Icy fingers seemed to close around my throat. These were the middle lines of the prophecy that I hadn't known before, and just as Chiron had promised, they were dark and dangerous. _Hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap_. No matter how you interpreted it, the lines promised a terrible death. It threw the final lines of the prophecy, the ones I knew, into sharper focus.

' _A single choice shall end his days.  
Olympus to preserve or raze._ '

Thalia traced the rim of her goblet with one finger. 'You're saying … well, that's me, isn't it? " _A half-blood of the eldest gods_." I'm the daughter of Zeus.'

'Yes,' Chiron said. 'When I learned of your existence, well, it was clear that we needed to bring you to camp, to protect you. But then when we thought we had lost you, and Percy was found, it seemed that the prophecy might refer instead to him. But now … well, you see the issue.'

'We're both children of the eldest gods—Zeus and Poseidon. So whichever of us reaches sixteen first … but _I'm_ …?' She trailed off uncertainly, as though mentally trying to figure out her own age.

' _Against all odds_ ,' Chiron murmured.

'Does it count, though?' I asked. 'The years Thalia spent as a tree—I mean, she doesn't look nineteen. For all we know, she still counts as twelve. Percy would be older than her, then. He turns fourteen in August.'

Chiron stroked his scraggly beard thoughtfully. 'My best guess … you would be somewhere in between. Trees age, after all, but at a much slower rate than humans. I would work on the assumption that you are older than Percy, but whether you are officially past your sixteenth birthday … I do not know. At any rate, that day would be close.'

'My birthday's in December. The twenty-second.'

'The day after the winter solstice,' Chiron mused.

'Is that important?'

'The winter solstice is when the gods have their annual council,' I explained.

Chiron nodded. 'There was a great debate last year about whether Percy, as the potential half-blood of the prophecy, posed a threat to the gods. Lord Poseidon was able to convince the others that his son was honourable, and as there are three more years until his sixteenth birthday, Percy need not take on the mantle of the prophecy now. And so we have not shared it with him. But you, Thalia,' his voice became very grave, 'I'm afraid that there seems to be little wiggle room for you. You were returned to us as a ploy by the Titan lord to hasten the prophecy along. He has despaired of turning Percy to his side and will be banking on _your_ choice. You need to know what you are up against.'

'A choice that's meant to kill me,' Thalia said. 'With a cursed blade.' She laughed humourlessly. 'I guess it's just as well that I fight with a spear.'

'It is rare for the lines of a prophecy to make sense until after they unfold,' Chiron warned. 'Trying to divine their true meaning … well, that can affect the way they occur.'

'Believe me, I know,' Thalia said. Her face clouded over and her eyes grew a little distant, as if a memory was passing before them. I remembered what she'd said: _I'm not a big fan of prophecies_. I wondered what prophecies she had encountered before. 

'At any rate,' Chiron said, 'we shall have to prepare you—you must be trained, and there is not much time.' He sighed heavily. 'With Percy, we have at least had two summers and there would be more. Unfortunately …'

'Thalia's an amazing fighter,' I said. 'When we were on the run, with—with Luke … they kept me safe.'

'Yes, but there are other skills that are important. Physical combat is not the only weapon in the Titan lord's arsenal.'

While this was true, I wondered what sort of training there was that could help protect against Kronos's manipulation. Obviously it hadn't saved Luke. 

Chiron left us to show ourselves out, saying that he had a proposal to take to Mr D. Thalia and I sat in silence for a while, staring at our still-full goblets of iced tea. 

'Are you okay?' I asked. 

'Never better,' Thalia said. 'Two sets of gods want to use me as their own personal weapon against the other. Why wouldn't I be thrilled?' 

The hard edge in her voice made me uneasy. 'Thalia … you know you can't side with Kronos, right? I mean—I know the gods aren't perfect, but they're our parents. And Zeus did save you …'

'Yeah,' Thalia said wistfully, 'he did …' She shook her head as though clearing it. 'I still can't quite believe that Luke …'

'I can't quite believe it either,' I agreed.

'Does he know about this prophecy?'

I started to shake my head, but then I remembered that Luke had taunted Percy about it. He knew _something_. Kronos must have shared it with him.

Thalia scowled. 'If he helped turn me into a pawn …'

'Kronos tricked him. I'm sure he thought he was just saving you.'

'I had my future told once,' Thalia said abruptly. 'We both did.'

'You—and Luke?'

Thalia nodded. 'I didn't think anything of it at the time—I mean, it was really crazy. But it all came true. It said I'd sacrificed myself to save my friends, and I'd be alone and alive, but sleeping, and then I'd change twice …'

'You became the pine tree. And you turned back into a girl,' I said, understanding. 'What about Luke's?'

'We didn't hear it all. I—I stopped the man the moment he said Luke would betray … someone.'

I shivered. 'Who was the man?'

'Another demigod. His name was Halcyon Green. He was a son of Apollo. Actually—your knife, the one Luke gave you?'

I unsheathed it and held it out, remembering that Thalia had been about to tell me something about it before we'd been interrupted by the fight on the hill.

'This was his,' she said. 'He gave it to Luke.'

My bronze blade seemed to grow heavier in my hands. I didn't know what to think. The knife had felt like a taunt on occasion this year, as a gift from a traitor, but now it had an even more dubious connection to a man who had predicted that betrayal. It felt a bit like a curse, connecting Luke to a prophecy that he would turn on his friends, and me as the friend Luke had betrayed. Yet it had also been a faithful weapon for me, from the very first stab of the Cyclops in Brooklyn to my fight with the Laistrygonian giant this summer. A real monster-slaying weapon, like Luke had promised me. 

'I didn't want to believe Luke could betray _anyone_ , and when Percy first told me … well, I was angry until I remembered what Hal said. He was right about my future, Annabeth.' She didn't need to say: _he could have been right about Luke, too_.

My stomach turned over uncomfortably. I couldn't deny that Luke _had_ betrayed us, but I didn't want to believe that it was irreversible. 'You didn't hear the end. Maybe we could find this demigod, ask him what was the rest of the prophecy …'

'He's dead. He sacrificed himself for us.'

I felt miserable. Here was another half-finished prophecy, only I'd never know what was supposed to be in store for Luke after all. 

'How much do you remember about Luke's dad, Annabeth?' Thalia asked abruptly. 

'Hermes?' I said in surprise. 'Luke hates him.' I thought about it for a second. 'Do you know why, exactly?'

'Well, the gods aren't exactly great parents to begin with. But for Luke and I … well, our moms were _really_ screwed up. And we always wondered, if our dads hadn't abandoned them, maybe …' Her eyes flashed with some of the same anger I'd seen in Luke's, when Hermes was mentioned, and I felt uneasy again. Thalia's prophecy had talked about her changing twice. A horrible thought came to me, that 'change' didn't necessarily mean a physical change.

I knew Kronos had played on Luke's anger at Hermes—maybe that was his fatal flaw. Was it Thalia's, too?

Then Thalia said, 'It was harder for Luke, I think, because he did love his mom. I mean, he got glimpses sometimes of what she might have been. For me, well, my mom was always flaky. I think she would have been like that even if she _hadn't_ met Zeus. But Luke's mom was just _weird_ , like something had really messed her up.'

I had a vague memory of a manic, wild-eyed woman offering me burnt chocolate-chip cookies. It was the only time I'd ever visited Luke's home, and his mom had definitely not seemed all there in the head.

'He blamed his dad completely,' Thalia continued. 'So … well, I don't know exactly what happened to him after I became a tree. But I imagine that revenge against the gods … it was probably quite an incentive for him. Maybe in the end, that was all he cared about.'

Her voice sounded brittle. I wasn't sure whether she was justifying Luke's actions or condemning them. In my head, the days I'd spent with Luke and Thalia had always felt like an idyllic time, a memory of the first time I'd felt wanted and loved despite being a troubled half-blood kid. I often forgot that it had really only been two weeks. Maybe I didn't know Thalia as well as I imagined I did. I was certainly finding it difficult to figure out what she was thinking now.

But Luke … I definitely knew him after so many years at camp together. At least, I thought I did.

'He cared about us,' I said. But the words sounded hollow, even to me.

'The people we love can let us down,' Thalia said. 'Trust me, I've had plenty of experience with that.'

I was about to tell her that she was right—people were disappointing, and trusting them could get you hurt. But then a small voice rose up in my head. _Yeah, but sometimes if you give them a chance, they can surprise you._ It sounded suspiciously like Percy. 

My heart did a little somersault as I thought about him pulling me back from the Sirens' beach, never saying a word when I fell apart in his arms underwater, and cheering me up with bad jokes about hummus. Suddenly, all I wanted was to go find him and talk about something other than ominous prophecies. Just seeing his stupid, lopsided grin would probably make me feel better already.

'Let's go,' I said to Thalia. 'Percy will be wondering what's taking us so long.'


	28. We Say Goodbye For Another Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth leaves camp hopeful for the upcoming school year.

After the attack on the Fleece, the atmosphere at camp seemed to get more serious. It turned out that Chiron's proposal for Mr D was to send the satyrs out on emergency overtime to scout for half-bloods across the country, both to recruit them to replace our depleted numbers as well as to find them before Kronos and Luke could get to them. Luke, Thalia reminded us, knew what it was like to be a half-blood on the run. He could be really persuasive to other lonely and unprotected demigods.

Even Grover was taking a rain check on his search for Pan in light of the dire circumstances. He'd gotten himself assigned to a school in Maine and planned to leave at the end of summer.

'Send us an Iris-message if you need help,' we told him. Chiron had asked the campers who would be going back to school if we would be willing to be back-up for the satyrs. As a result, even more of us were leaving at the end of summer session to attend school in the real world.

'Are you going back to your dad's then?' Percy asked me as we sat toasting marshmallows at the campfire one evening.

'Probably,' I said. I knew he wanted me home, but we hadn't figured out any exact details yet. I'd sent a letter to ask what his plans were. I was still waiting for him to write back.

'You went back home, then?' Thalia said, surprised. The only time we'd ever spoken of my family, I'd been vehemently opposed to returning to them.

'Last year. I was ... well, my stepmom doesn't like me much, but my dad isn't as bad as, you know, before. We're getting along.'

'Hm.' Thalia looked thoughtful.

'Did your mom find you a new school?' I asked Percy, remembering how we'd left his old one in flames. I wasn't an expert on school systems in New York, but I thought that was probably an expulsion offence.

'She's looking,' Percy said. 'Chiron actually cleared things up with Meriwether so they don't think I'm an arsonist any more, but they still don't want me back.'

'Percy lives in New York,' I told Thalia. 'So he won't be far.'

Thalia frowned. 'I'm not sure I want to stay here year-round.'

We stared at her. We'd all assumed that she would be staying after the summer. After Chiron's insistence that there was little time to train her properly, I didn't think he would be keen to have her leave. Since our conversation about the prophecy, Thalia had been getting private instruction from Chiron on top of the normal training activities at camp. Despite her limited formal training, she was already one of our best all-round fighters.

'I mean, I've spent enough time stuck here on that hill,' Thalia said. I guess being rooted to the earth _was_ enough to give anyone a desire to travel. 

'Would you go find your family?' Percy asked, clearly forgetting that Thalia had been a runaway like Luke and me. 'Where are you from, anyway?'

'Los Angeles,' Thalia said.

Percy, Grover, and I exchanged a look. We didn't have a great track record with L.A. It was where the entrance to the Underworld was, where we'd gone on our quest last year and nearly gotten dragged into Tartarus.

'Oh man,' Grover said. 'That place still gives me the creeps.'

Thalia looked a bit affronted. 'It's not that bad. I mean, sure, it's on the west coast, but it's not as bad as, say, Frisco.'

We explained about the Underworld entrance and how Kronos had tricked us last year into bringing Zeus's master bolt to Hades. I described how Percy had battled Ares on the beach of Santa Monica and Kronos had stopped time in one terrifying moment. Thalia looked impressed.

'You duelled a god,' she said with a low whistle. 'You must have _really_ pissed him off.'

'Yeah,' Percy said. 'He's not my biggest fan.'

'You got that right,' Grover snorted. 'The whole Ares cabin has been after Percy's blood since.'

'Thanks for the reminder,' Percy said. 'So what's wrong with Frisco?'

'There's just something evil about the place.' Thalia's face got that closed-off look that I was starting to recognise as a bad memory she didn't like to relive.

I changed the subject quickly. 'Thalia, you can come home with me at the end of summer. We'll stick together, I promise.' I almost said, _we're family_ , but I bit it back. That was the promise Luke had given me and look how that had turned out.

Thalia smiled. 'Thanks. I might take you up on that.'

I didn't know what my dad would say (and I could imagine the look on my stepmother Janet's face if I brought another half-blood home with me), but I'd figure it out later. I wasn't going to abandon Thalia.

'If you came all the way here from L.A.,' Percy said, 'you must have seen lots of the country.'

Thalia crossed her arms over her head and leaned back, looking up at the stars. Capricornus, Pan's constellation, shone above us. 'In a way,' she said. 'I actually got a flight out of L.A. the night I ran away. I followed a magic goat.' She grinned at the memory, but didn't elaborate. 'I ended up in Charleston. I mostly travelled up and down the east coast after that.'

'I'd like to travel,' I said. 'I want to see all the famous landmarks. Not just in America, but all over the world.'

'Oh man, you should have seen last year,' Grover said. 'She dragged us allover the Gateway Arch in St Louis.'

'It's the world's tallest arch!' I protested. 'Six hundred and thirty feet, with a curved elevator. You have to admit that's cool.'

Percy shuddered. 'Six hundred feet in the air,' he said. 'Not exactly my idea of cool. Though maybe the daughter of Zeus here might go for it.'

'I think I'll pass,' Thalia said.

'Six hundred and thirty feet,' I corrected. 'And Percy here had to go skydiving off it.'

'Thanks to a chimera!' Percy said, but he was grinning. It had been a terrifying experience at the time—for him, certainly, but for us as well, thinking he'd been killed. Now, though, it just felt like an entertaining tale. We were really starting to be veterans at this quest business.

'Remember the talking poodle?' I said.

'And the water park in Denver?'

'Ugh, don't remind me.' That had involved spiders, and those would never _not_ be terrifying.

'The zoo transport to Vegas.'

I smiled at that. We'd had our first real conversation then. I think it was the moment I realised Percy was really my friend and I'd stand by him no matter who his dad was. 'You know, we missed a great opportunity in Nevada.'

'What, another six-hundred-foot monument I could jump off?'

'You ought to appreciate this one, Seaweed Brain. Hoover Dam—it's over six hundred feet tall, but this one's right up your alley. It holds five million cubic acres of water. They built it in the 1930s, but until now, it's still the largest construction project in the United States.'

'Tell you what. If we ever get another quest going that way, I'll take you.'

'Are they always like this?' Thalia asked Grover. Their heads were turning back and forth between me and Percy as we talked. 

Grover groaned. 'Try being on a quest with them. It's like being a third wheel.'

I blushed. 'Shut up, goat-boy.'

OoOoO

Thalia managed to get her way about leaving Camp Half-Blood for the school term, but Chiron insisted that she stay close. They compromised on a boarding school in Brooklyn, near enough for Chiron to help if she ran into trouble. Having experienced first-hand just how fast Chiron could travel, I figured it'd take him less than five minutes to show up in Brooklyn. Chiron even managed to talk Mr D into letting him pay the fees with funds from the strawberry crop.

'He said the camp owed me for the magical protections the past six years,' Thalia said. 'The question now is, will your dad let you go to school with me?'

I wrote him another long, pleading letter, stressing how much Thalia had taken care of me when I was seven, and saved my life half a dozen times. I promised I'd at least be back for the last few weeks of summer. Remembering how Janet had backed me up when I'd left this summer when it meant having me out of the house, I took a chance and wrote her a letter as well. In it, I casually mentioned how much safer it would be for the twins if I were away at boarding school. 

I'm not sure which of my letters was more convincing, but my dad gave in and agreed to enrol me in Brownsville Girls' Academy with Thalia. 

Percy was excited when he learned that we'd be in New York for the year. 'My mom's set me up at MS-54 in Manhattan, maybe you guys could go there instead?' he said hopefully.

'That's not a boarding school, is it?' Thalia asked. 'Unless you've got room for us all at your house.'

'Er, I don't think so. Or I could see about going to your school …'

'Unless there's something you haven't told us, Seaweed Brain, that's not happening,' I said. 'It's an all-girls' school.'

'Oh.' Percy's ears turned pink. He looked crestfallen. I was touched at how much he wanted to stay in contact with us.

'Hey.' I bumped his shoulder. 'We'll be lots closer anyway. I bet we'll get to see each other at some point. And we can come back to camp for winter break.'

He cheered up at that prospect.

All too soon, the last night of camp arrived. At the final campfire, we gave out the summer's bead, painted with a Golden Fleece that shone just like the actual thing. I strung it onto my necklace, which was getting pretty crowded now with seven beads. 

Percy looked extremely pleased to get his second bead. Thalia rubbed her finger over the single bead on her new necklace, which looked very lonely all by itself. She should have had at least as many as me. I hoped she would have plenty more chances in the coming years. She deserved it.

'I need to tell you something,' Thalia said at the end of the campfire, before we split up to our respective cabins. Since her cabin was a lot more private than mine, we went there to talk.

Thalia had carved out a small sleeping space for herself in an alcove that had previously held a bronze eagle. She'd swept out the empty space and squeezed in her bedroll. Most of the gear that we'd gotten for her from the camp store was packed up in her backpack, ready for our departure tomorrow. But she'd left a crumpled piece of paper tacked to the wall next to her sleeping space.

'I've been thinking …' she said. 'Well, I might not go back with you to Virginia after all.'

I stared at her. We'd had to beg Chiron to approve our plan for her to spend the remainder of the summer vacation, before school started, with me and my family. He'd only reluctantly agreed to the two weeks. After all that, why would Thalia change her mind?

'It's not that I don't want to go with you,' Thalia added quickly, seeing the look on my face. 'There's just something I realised I need to …' She fiddled with Aegis, in bracelet form, on her wrist. 'That guy I told you about, Hal Green—he didn't just predict that I'd sacrifice myself and turn into a tree. He also told me I'd find my family again. I don't know what happened to …' She hesitated and I got the feeling that she was still considering whether to tell me. 'My mom,' she said at last. 

'Oh.'

'I haven't seen her in, what, seven years? I ran away when I was ten. I guess … well, you went back to your dad in the end. Maybe I should … I dunno, make an effort.'

I knew what Percy would say to that. He was the one who had encouraged me to reach out to my dad. He had a very optimistic view about family. I guess he wasn't always wrong. My dad _had_ turned out to be okay, when I stopped holding a grudge against him for marrying Janet.

Maybe it would work out for Thalia, too.

'I thought you said she lived in L.A.?'

'Yeah.'

'Chiron's not going to be happy with that.'

Thalia grimaced. 'I don't even know why I need his approval in the first place.'

'He's just looking out for you, Thalia.'

'I can take care of myself.'

She was probably right about that. She'd gotten herself all the way from L.A. to the east coast at ten years old, and survived another two years on her own with Luke. Few demigods had as much practical survival experience as Thalia. But Chiron's worry wasn't just about random monsters. He knew Kronos was out there and would be after Thalia's allegiance, if not her life. 

Still, Thalia deserved a chance to find her family, too.

'I could come with you,' I offered, although I didn't think my dad would like it much. I was surprised as well to realise that I was torn about the prospect, too. Part of me was actually looking forward to spending some time with him.

'No—go home with your dad. I … this is something I kind of have to do alone.'

Her eyes got a bit distant, but I could see the determination shining behind them. I wondered what the real story was with her mother. Thalia had never told me, though perhaps that was because I'd been only seven when we'd met. I wondered if Luke knew.

My eyes drifted back to the single piece of paper taped to Thalia's wall. It was a smoothed-out photograph of three kids. Crinkled lines ran down their faces from where the picture had been crumpled up, but I recognised them immediately: Luke, Thalia, and me. 

Last year, when Luke had left camp, he'd left this very photo behind in his cabin. I had no idea how Thalia had found it.

An uneasy idea crept into my head about just what Thalia might not be telling me.

'Thalia … are you going to try and find Luke?'

'What?' Thalia blinked in confusion. 'No, I hadn't thought of that.'

'Oh.' I guessed Luke wouldn't be in L.A. anyway. His ship, the _Princess Andromeda_ , was travelling along the Atlantic, and although I knew how fast it could sail, I couldn't think of any particular reason why he would be drawn to L.A. Thalia looked as if she was considering the idea now that I had brought it up, though, so I said quickly, 'Thalia, promise me you won't go searching for Luke, okay? Not—not without me.'

'Afraid I'll join him?'

'No! I mean …' I bit my lip. 

Thalia looked at the picture tacked to her wall. 'I still don't know what to think. I … well, I have to think about it more. And until I've worked it out, it's probably better I don't see him yet. Anyway, this trip isn't about Luke. But next summer …'

'We'll find him together,' I promised. This reminded me of another pact I'd made last year, with Percy, when, angry at Luke's betrayal, I'd vowed to hunt him down and get answers from him. We'd ended up doing it after all, but it had only raised more questions for me. Would it be any different next year?

Thalia nodded. 'Together,' she agreed. She picked up her backpack. 'I'll see you at the start of school.'

'You're leaving now?'

'It's a long way,' Thalia said. 'Besides, my guide is waiting.' She pointed out the window. In the bushes, I saw the head of a goat with silver horns like curlicues. 'Amaltheia,' Thalia explained. 'She—she's my dad's sacred animal. She comes to me as a guide when there's something I'm meant to find.'

I didn't know what to make of this—the goat had certainly never shown up when I'd been with Thalia and Luke—but we all had our own signs from our godly parents. Athena had guided me to them through dreams and whispers. If Thalia was still willing to trust a sign from Zeus, that was probably a good thing.

'Good luck,' I said. 'See you at school.'

I hugged her and she slipped away after Amaltheia the goat into the darkness.

OoOoO

My family had to make a seven-hour drive from Richmond (probably longer with two kindergarteners in the car) so I wasn't expecting them until the evening. I spent the morning sword-training with Percy, who wanted to get one more sparring session in before he left on the afternoon bus for Manhattan with the other campers. After, I walked with him to Half-Blood Hill, where Peleus the dragon circled Thalia's tree, keeping a lazy eye on the campers that passed by. Argus had the camp van pulled up at the base of the hill. With so many campers heading out into the world this year, he was making trips back and forth to the city all day.

Clarisse came up and bumped her shoulder hard against Percy. 'Just wait until next summer, Prissy,' she told him. 'I'll pulverise you then.'

Neither of us took her seriously. Argus had already taken all the Ares group into the city on an earlier run. As Clarisse was staying at camp, there wasn't any other reason for her to come up here except to see him off. 

'I'll miss you, too, Clarisse,' Percy said. Clarisse grinned and slapped our shoulders. 

'See you soon, Percy.' Beckendorf came up to say goodbye as well. He was also one of the few campers staying on, along with Silena, who had apparently walked up the hill with him. 'Say hi to Tyson for me if you see him.'

Percy looked a little wistful at the mention of Tyson, but he nodded and shook Beckendorf's hand. Silena smiled at him and said, 'I'll look after your Pegasus while you're gone.'

'Your Pegasus?' I asked.

'Blackjack—you know, the one on Luke's ship? He seems to have adopted me. Probably since I can speak to him.' To Silena and Beckendorf, he said, 'You guys will hold the fort down here, won't you? Don't let Clarisse have it all her way.'

'Of course.' Silena looped her arm through Beckendorf's. 'Send us all the new recruits you find. Charlie and I will take care of them.'

_Charlie?_ I mouthed at Beckendorf. He tried to scowl, but he couldn't shake off the pleased look on his face. I hoped he'd gotten the courage to ask Silena out at last.

'Well,' Percy said, turning to me. 'I guess …' His voice trailed off as he noticed something at the base of the hill. 'No way,' he said suddenly. ' _Mom?_ '

I turned to look. A little purple Mazda was parked behind the camp bus. A woman with wavy brown hair had just gotten out and was making her way up the hill.

'Mom!' Percy dropped his duffel bag and ran down to meet her. She opened her arms and he ran straight into her embrace. 'You didn't tell me you were coming!'

Percy's mother ruffled his hair fondly. I didn't hear what she said to him. Percy took her hand and led her towards me.

'Mom, this is Annabeth,' he said.

I'd only met Sally Jackson once before—if you could call it meeting when she was encased in a golden sphere as an unconscious, frozen prisoner of Hades. All I really knew about her beyond that was that Percy adored her and would do just about anything for her.

She had the look of a lady who had seen hard years, but the wrinkles of her face fell in smile lines about her eyes and mouth. Her gaze was warm and inviting and her smile was like sunshine in fall: that golden warmth that chased away the chill. I knew immediately why Percy loved her so much.

'I'm so pleased to meet you, Annabeth,' she said. 'Percy's told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already.'

'Has he?' I felt a little shy.

'Yes … what was it, now, Percy—"the smartest, prettiest girl at camp"? I think I can see why.'

I blushed. Percy turned red. 'Mom!' he complained.

Sally laughed and smoothed the hair on the top of his head. He ducked away, a little embarrassed. 'Thank you for looking after Percy,' she said to me. 'I hear you're responsible for getting him out of quite a few scrapes.'

'Um, we look out for each other,' I said. 'We're friends.'

'I'm glad he's found such good friends here. I worry so much about him. He has this knack for finding trouble. Why, every school year, he'll find something to blow up. I used to say, with him, the year's not over until he's caused world war two in the back yard.'

This was such an apt description of my two summers with Percy, I couldn't help giggling. Percy made a face at me.

'She's kind of right,' I said. 'How many things have you blown up this summer?'

'I think you have me confused with Clarisse,' he retorted.

'Clarisse had nothing to do with you blowing up your school when I came to find you at the start of summer.'

'That was the Last—Les—uh, Canadians.'

'Percy!' Sally said, horrified. 'That's not nice!'

'It's okay, ma'am, he just means northern giants.'

'Oh, call me Sally, dear,' she said. 

Percy changed the subject. 'Mom, not that I'm not glad to see you, but how come you're not at work?'

'Well, I sold a piece to the New Yorker,' Sally said. 'So I thought I could afford some time off, and I thought I'd give myself a treat and come up and surprise you. Besides,' she held up a wicker basket, 'I brought these. As a thank-you to Chiron and your friends for looking after you all summer.' She uncovered the top. The basket was chock-full of blue cupcakes.

'Score!' Percy's hand darted out for one, but Sally smacked it away.

'These are for your friends,' she scolded. 'Go on, Annabeth dear.'

I took one and bit into it. Underneath the blue icing, it was chocolatey and delicious. 

'Thank you,' I said as soon as my mouth was no longer full from the first, heavenly bite. 'These are amazing.'

'Mom makes the best cupcakes in the world,' Percy said proudly. 'Also, they're blue.'

'It's a tradition we have,' Sally explained. 'Blue food for special occasions.'

'Blue … like the sea?'

Sally and Percy exchanged a look. 'I hadn't thought of that,' Sally admitted. 'It was really just because blue is a very special colour for food. But yes, that seems appropriate.'

'Told you she was smart,' Percy muttered, then he added quickly, 'for a girl.'

'You wish you were as smart as me, Seaweed Brain,' I told him.

Sally laughed again. 'I see you have him well in hand,' she said. 'So Annabeth, are you going home for the school year, too? I understand you live in Virginia?'

'Richmond,' I nodded. 'And just for the rest of the vacation.' I told her about going to school in Brooklyn, and soon we were chatting like old friends. I learnt that she was an aspiring writer, but she'd had to drop out of college and she hadn't had the chance to go back until after Percy had come to camp. She'd been taking night classes all through summer while Percy was away. She asked me about what I liked to do in my free time and I ended up telling her about planning the new arts and crafts cabin, and how I'd study architectural design if I ever got to go to college. Sally nodded appreciatively.

'It's great that you know what you want to do, Annabeth. I've no idea what Percy imagines for his future—'

Percy rolled his eyes. 'Staying alive would be good.'

Sally tousled his hair. He'd managed to sneak a cupcake from the basket while we were talking, and his mouth was ringed with blue icing. 

'Unless it's to be a food taster,' Sally joked. 'Given how much he eats.'

We laughed. Then Argus honked from the camp bus. They were loaded up and ready to leave and the campers were waving goodbye from the windows. The bus trundled down the road, leaving Sally's little purple car alone at the foot of the hill.

'I guess we'd better be on our way, too,' Sally said.

'Yeah,' Percy said. He hefted his duffel bag onto his shoulder. I swallowed hard as our eyes met in farewell. I was definitely going to miss him this year.

'Well, it was lovely to meet you at last, Annabeth.' Sally kissed my cheek and pulled me into a hug. She smelled faintly of peppermint and fresh coffee and her arms fit around me like I'd always known her. She pressed the cupcake basket into my arms. 'Share those around with your friends. And you know, whenever you're in New York, you're very welcome to visit.'

Sally put an arm around Percy as they walked down the hill. He ducked out from under it, giving me an embarrassed look, like _mothers, seriously_ , but I felt jealous. I had a sudden, disloyal wish that she was _my_ mom. Or at least my stepmom. I knew now why Percy was so trusting, with such unwavering faith in family. Like many other mortal parents of demigods, Sally Jackson had been abandoned by a god once—probably messing up her life in the process, if I read between the lines of her story—yet unlike a lot of the others, she had no bitterness in her about it. She acted like Percy was the best part of her life, no matter what sacrifices she had to make for him.

He was so lucky.

Watching Sally and Percy made me think of the image the Sirens had shown me on their island: a united family who wanted and accepted me unconditionally. _Was_ it just hubris to think that I could make it possible? I'd already achieved the part of that vision that I'd thought the most impossible. Retrieving the Fleece had gotten us Thalia back. I'd regained one old friend. Next summer, who knew? Maybe the other one wasn't as lost as he seemed. 

I pictured Luke the way he looked in the crumpled photograph Thalia had found, standing with his arm around Thalia as she punched him jokingly in the arm. I saw them again as they had appeared in my Siren-induced vision, next to my father and Athena in the gorgeous park I had designed. I saw Percy grinning at me as though I hung the world and I realised I hadn't just seen that expression in my vision. He'd looked exactly like that when I'd kissed his cheek after the chariot races.

The unattainability of the Siren's vision had filled me with anguish right after I'd left their island, but maybe it wasn't an impossible future. 

_You_ could _make it real_ …

I already had Thalia. And as for Percy and me, well …

Percy reached the bottom of the hill. He turned back to wave at me before he got into the car with his mom. Something stirred deep in my chest as I waved back: a feeling of promise, of possibility.

As I watched Sally's little purple car drive away, I felt a surge of hope. This year, I'd have Thalia with me at school, and we would all be in New York. Maybe I'd even get to see Percy before next summer rolled round. 

Yes, it was going to be a good term. And on that happy thought, I went to finish packing my bags for the year ahead.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised this chapter RR's math is a little off. It should have been 9 years that Thalia hadn't seen her mother … but I'm just going to chalk it down Thalia not calculating so well given all her lost years as a tree.
> 
> Anyway, that's it for this fic! Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so do let me know what you thought--I promise I don't bite!
> 
> If you want to know more about other stuff I'm working on, have a look on my author's page, or drop by my [tumblr](http://dotshiiki.tumblr.com) or [LJ](http://shiikifics.livejournal.com) and say hi!


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